


And so it is Written

by Castielgavemewings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Castiel is a Sweetheart, Castiel is so pure, Dean in Denial, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Denial of Feelings, Destiel - Freeform, Exchange Student, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, I swear this will earn its explicit rating, Jealous Dean, Lots of Angst, M/M, Megstiel for like one second, Sam Is So Done, Slow Burn, seriously slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 48,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castielgavemewings/pseuds/Castielgavemewings
Summary: Dean is a student at Westchester Highschool when he gets mixed up in an exchange program between the Saint Hester's private school kids and Westchester Athletes. Dean is assigned Castiel Novak, an academic genius, what starts as Dean bitterly hating the situation unfolds into a sweet love story





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for clicking on this. This is the first fic I've ever written, and I'm here for fun. I hope you love the story. It will earn its explicit rating...in the mean time enjoy some fluffy angst.

          Dean snatched his backpack off the table, grabbing only an apple before getting the hell out of dodge. John was home. After nearly a month of not knowing where darling deadbeat dad was, he returned. Drunk as shit, but alive.

         “Sam! Would you hurry up already?” A responding thud of shoes on stairs gave enough of an answer. It was unnerving how tall Sam had gotten. No eighth grader deserved to be this tall, not when Dean didn’t tower over his little brother like he used to. Dean had already started up the car and was about to leave Sam’s ass when the rascal flung open the door and sat heavily into the seat. Had Dean not been so focused on getting away, he would have torn Sam a new one for the way he treated his beloved car.

  
          The notes of ‘Ramble On’ worked wonders on Dean’s nerves as he drove the familiar road to Westchester High School. Dean looked over to see Sam scrolling through the High School’s website.

  
          “Whatcha doin’ there, Sammy?” Sam looked up, startled by the sound of his voice.  
          “You know the private school? The one that’s across the street from the old elementary?” Dean nodded once before chiming in,  
          “Yeah, Saint Hester’s? What about it?” Sam looked down at his phone again.  
          “They’re doing some sort of an exchange between their journalism students and our athletes.” Dean stopped the exasperated sigh before it reached his lips.  
          “Why would those douchewad rich-kids want anything to do with us?” Sam resumed reading once more before responding.  
          “‘To get an inside look on the life of a high school athlete,’” he quoted, “Apparently they want to make it a tradition, the Journalism students would shadow the athletes in class and out, writing an expose of sorts. And get this—it’s worth all of their grade for the semester.” Dean was suddenly very glad that he had dropped football after junior year. A concussion had put him out of the game, and he wanted more free time senior year. After all, being MVP as a junior was not a bad way to go.

  
          He dropped off Sam in the middle school parking lot before completing the journey to Westchester. The bell had already rung and Dean muttered quick curses under his breath. Had the giraffe child not taken so long, he could have avoided the tongue lashing he was about to get from his language arts teacher, not to mention the detention.

  
          Dean monitored the classroom through the window, waiting for Ms. Harvelle to turn her back. He always thought it was a bit unfair that her own daughter got to be in the class. But hey, Jo sure was easy on the eyes. Ms. Harvelle turned to grab a stack of papers, and Dean slid through the door and into a desk near the back. He prayed she hadn’t taken role yet. She faced the class once again, eyes falling onto him.

  
          “Mr. Winchester, how nice of you to join us. Now would you care to share why you’re late…again?” Dean’s lips thinned as he avoided her inquisitive stare.  
          “I had to drop off my brother, I didn’t meant to be late.” He thought that was an adequate explanation, and so, it seemed, did she. Ms. Harvelle just dropped the light blue slip on his desk and continued teaching—leaving out any harsh words. Dean stuffed the note into his jacket pocket before getting up and moving to his usual seat. Dean’s on again off again girlfriend was right next to him, and he thought maybe this meant they were on again. Lisa Braeden looked over to him, throwing a casual smile his way. On again. He quirked his eyebrows for confirmation, and she nodded. The day was looking up, and Dean managed to pay attention for the first half of class before starting to doodle on the pages of the notebook.

  
          Lisa tugged at the sleeve of his jacket and was pointing toward Ms. Harvelle who was getting ready to address the class. Dean sat up straighter, if Lisa wanted him to pay attention, maybe it was important. Though she did have the nasty habit of wanting Dean to do better in his classes. That was an argument they had frequently.

  
          “Alright class, have any of you heard about the new exchange that we are doing?” Only a handful of kids nodded. Ms. Harvelle made a humming sound before continuing, “The new director at Saint Hester’s has decided it’s about time our students started mingling,” multiple pairs of eyes rolled. No one wanted anything to do with the jesus-freak Rockefellers. “And to get that moving, we have arranged an…exchange program of sorts. The journalism class will be shadowing the athletes of Westchester High for two weeks. I am telling you this because I expect you all to behave and treat the students with as much respect as you would any of the students here at Westchester. We will have one of these students joining us in this class,” Dean pitied whoever was going to have to put up with that for two whole weeks, “I’m sure you all know the athlete I’m referring to,” Dean did not. “the only football player to ever be awarded MVP as a junior, Dean Winchester.” A few of the students swiveled in their seats to look at him.

  
          Oh, hell no. Dean’s mouth wrinkled in discontent. He thought about protesting it, but instead sighed and wrapped an arm around Lisa’s shoulders. He would talk to the office later today, tell them that he wouldn’t do it. He spent the rest of the class doodling and humming Led Zepplin, much to Bela’s dismay.  
When the bell dismissed them, he took a moment to talk to Lisa.

  
          “Hey, Lis, what’s happening here?” He gestured at his arm, now around her waist.  
          “I decided, after everything, I still want to be with you.” Dean considered the statements.  
          “Thanks, Lisa, means a lot, but how many times are you going to change your mind?” He hadn’t meant the question to come off as offensive, but Lisa pulled away and hugged her binder with both hands.  
          “Fine, Dean. I see how it is.” She shot him a glare before marching down the hall. Dean leaned his head back against the lockers. Off again.  
          One of the perks of being a senior was his free period. He had an entire hour to do nothing. He could sleep, or go out to eat, or go home for all the school cared. But seeing as he had a little problem to take care of, he went to the office. The name tag of the lady behind the desk read Pamela.  
          “Hiya, Pam,” She looked up at him without moving an inch. When neither of them said anything, she sighed and rolled her chair back.  
          “Can I help you?” Dean adjusted his backpack.  
          “Yeah, I’m here to see principle Crowley…about the exchange program?” Pamela nodded and got out a pen and sticky note. She scribbled something on it before handing it back to Dean.  
          “He’ll be in there, I’d hurry.” He gave a quick word of thanks to Pamela before heading to room 121-B.

  
          He only wondered why Crowley was in 121-B for a second before dismissing the thought. He knocked twice before letting himself in. Crowley was looking around the room, holding up various colors of paint.  
          “Hello, do you need something, my boy?” He spoke with a lilting Scottish accent.  
          “Actually, I was wondering if you could assign my exchange student from Saint Hester’s to someone else?” Crowley looked over to him sharply and put the paint swatches down.  
          “And why would you want to do that?” Dean sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.  
          “I really don’t need a bible-thumping snob to follow me around for two weeks.” Crowley’s eyebrows shot up at his reasoning.  
          “And who would take your place?” Dean hadn’t thought of that.  
          “I don’t know, Benny maybe?” Crowley shook his head.  
          “I apologize, Dean, but it’s far too late for us to go back on our word. You’re something of a star player around here, Saint Hester’s was very interested.”  
          “So what exactly is gonna happen.” Dean was stalling while his brain raced for a better reason for Crowley to assign his stalker to someone else.  
          “The students will arrive here in three days, and you’ll be pulled from class. You will be formally introduced and the instructor from Saint Hester’s will talk you through everything that is going to take place. They will shadow you at school, and I believe they also have a list of activities that are required of them to participate in with you.” Dean shuddered, so they were basically living with him.  
          “Why can’t I just give them an interview and move on. An hour tops of my life?”  
          “Because, Winchester, this project is worth all of their grade for the semester. If you screw this up for them, you’ll have more than one person on you about it. They’re expected to write at least thirty pages about what they observed.” Dean’s jaw nearly dropped. They were writing a freakin’ book about him.  
          “And you can’t assign them to someone else because?” Dean didn’t finish the sentence, leaving a space for Crowley to fill.  
          “Because these arrangements were made nearly a month ago when you applied. And on that same piece of paper it says that you can’t back out of it if you are selected. You’re in a contract.” Dean’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t applied for this. That’s the last thing he would ever do.  
          “I never—”  
          “If memory serves, you may have blindly completed the form in light of the twenty extra credit points you got from Ms. Hanscum for doing so.” Dean’s eyes widened. He did remember that. He was in danger of failing, but the extra credit he got for applying had pushed his grade up to passing. There was no way out, he had blocked all exits with his own rashness.  
          “Is there any way I can get out of this?” Dean said. Crowley smirked.  
          “Not that I know of. Now, I really should be going. The new teacher’s lounge isn't going to select its own paint color, now is it?” Dean turned to leave, mind already overflowing with curses and apprehension for what was about to happen in only three short days. “And Dean?”  
          “Yeah, Crowley?”  
          “Go see Pam and ask for the file on the student who will be shadowing you. I would sleep better at night knowing that you knew at least a little about your new friend.” Dean rolled his eyes. They weren’t going to be friends. Dean didn’t care if the poor sucker failed every class for the rest of his life. He wasn’t going to let anyone follow him around for two weeks.  
However, he followed Crowley’s instructions and asked a still grouchy Pam for the file. She practically threw it at him, and laughed when he stumbled backwards, trying to keep his balance.

  
          Name: Novak, Castiel  
          Grade: 12  
          School: Saint Hester’s Academy of Art and Science  
          Height: 6’0”  
          Hair Color: BROWN  
          Eye Color: BLUE  
          DOB: August 20, 2000

  
          First of all, what kind of name was Castiel? Dean was grateful that he was barely taller than the guy. Below the basic information were a couple pages on what Castiel had written for himself, a glossy corner peeked out from the last one, and he guessed it was a photo. He pulled it out and scanned it, the blue eyes were stark against the almost black hair. He had a more academic centered appearance, the scrawny arms and knit sweater made it evidently clear that he was not like Dean.

  
          Dean sighed and brought the folder to his car where he threw it on the passenger seat. In a few days, Dean would have to endure the observation of someone with a stupid name and an unsettling gaze, but seriously how were his eyes so blue? Dean debated going to a local fast food joint for lunch but decided against it. Instead, he opened up the folder once more, flipping past the page with all of the basic information.  
          “Alright, Castiel, let’s see who you are.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He turned around, now level with the gorgeous blue eyes that had chased him from sleep.  
> “Hello, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how often I will update this...at least once a week. (If anyone ends up reading it of course).

          By the time his lunch break had ended, Dean knew a few things about Castiel. First and foremost, Castiel loved gardening. Half of the damn lines had been filled with how his sole interest was gardening and watching the bees and shit like that. Second, he knew that Castiel had been awarded a sterling scholar award for some science thing he’d done. Apparently, that was a big deal. Third, he had confirmed his suspicions of Castiel’s colossal nerd-hood. They kid was president of a thousand clubs. None of which were cool. Dean had made it through the first couple pages about him before he had known that this was going to be painful. He would get Sam to write the thirty pages if he had to, but he was not in any way shape or form going to allow Castiel to be at his side for fourteen days.  
The bell rang out like a death knell, and Dean headed into math. Benny dropped his bag in the seat next to him and nodded at dean.

  
          “Saw Lisa today. Doesn’t seem to pleased. What’d you do this time?” Benny spoke with a drawl that Dean liked to listen to. Not in a weird way. Dean shook those thoughts away and began to answer Benny.  
          “I asked her if she was for real this time, if she was done changing her mind. She didn’t like that a whole lot and stormed off.” Benny clapped a hand down on Dean’s shoulder. They exchanged a few jokes and Dean copied Benny’s answers before class began.

  
          Per the usual, Dean was battling to keep his eyes open when a chime sounded over the loudspeaker. He had been on the edge of sleep and groaned at the noise.  
          “Would all students involved in the Saint Hester’s exchange program please come to the guidance center?” The message was repeated once more. Dean nearly jumped at the excuse to get out of class. A few students looked up at him as he left, practically skipping. By the time he arrived at the guidance center, a cluster of students had already gathered. He recognized a few from various classes over the years, and he only knew one well. Meg Masters, captain of girls’ volleyball stood directly in front of him as he walked in.

  
          “Hey there, Dean. Wouldn’t have put you down as the type to foster a darling little church-goer.” Her lips tilted into a smirk and Dean tried not to tell her to go to hell.  
          “Same goes for you sweetheart. Why is it that you’re here?” She took another slow step toward him. Dean would have moved, but he was already flat backed to the door.  
          “Alastair, a good friend of mine, attends school there. It’s for mutual benefit. He escapes the shit hole that is Saint Hester’s and I get out of class early for two weeks. Sounds like a win-win doesn’t it?” Meg’s reasoning was a lot better than Dean’s.  
          “Expected nothing less, Meg.” With that, he slid to the right, attempting to leave her presence. Just as he cleared the door frame, she latched onto his arm and pulled him closer. Dean glared at her and tried to shake his arm free. He was about to start prying her fingers off when a gasp sounded from the hallway. Both Meg and Dean turned to see Lisa, looking shocked and upset.  
          “Lisa this isn’t what it looks like.” Dean wanted to smack himself for the cliche line. Meg let go of him like he was burning.  
          “No! No, that’s not—” Her protest was cut off by Lisa shaking her head before running into the bathroom, eyes misty. Dean let out an exasperated sigh and turned to Meg. If he was mad before—he was pissed now. She lazily turned her head, before shrugging.  
          “Oops.” Dean wanted to tell her off in the middle of the guidance center, but held his tongue. She’d get what was coming to her. About five minutes later,                                                   Crowley appeared and began to address them.

  
          “Hello, boys and girls. One of the ambassadors from Saint Hester’s has come to tell you what to expect over the next two weeks. Her name is Naomi and she is the Director of Arts over at their school. You will meet the students in three days, bright and early on monday morning. You will be excused from first and second that day while we get everything situated. Now, without much further ado, Naomi.” Crowley stepped aside and a woman with blonde hair and angular features took his place.

  
          “Good afternoon everyone, I am the Director of Arts over at Saint Hester’s. On Monday, you will report here instead of your usual classes, all absences will be excused through Crowley. The students have had housing arranged for them near here, they will need to check in every night before eleven. As you know, our students will shadow you around school, attend each of your classes. You will only attend the first half of your fourth class, the remainder of the time will be spent in room 121-B doing various things. On the weekends, you will spend the day with your students unless something dire comes up, in which case your student will spend the day at the hotel. Your students have a list of activities that you will be required to do with each other. It would be wise to befriend them, you don’t want anything nasty written about you. The paper will end up being a minimum of thirty pages or a maximum of one hundred. That’s all you need to know for now. I will explain in better detail on Monday what exactly will be happening. Are there any questions?” Meg, of course, raised her hand. Naomi nodded in her direction.

  
          “What are we supposed to do with them when we don’t want them around?” Dean’s eyes widened. That was bold, even for her, but he had to admit he had been thinking the same time for awhile. Naomi’s lips pressed into two thin lines.

  
          “Should you find need for privacy, simply send them back to the hotel. Do remember that if you neglect your student that all of the missed classwork and absences you have accumulated will be put back on your record.” Dean sagged against the wall. There went his plan A. Meg nodded at the surly woman. A few less notable questions were exchanged before their dismissal. Dean was delighted to find that third period only had about five minutes left. Just enough time to grab his things and be on his way. Auto-shop was his favorite class, and he wasn’t to happy to be missing half of it for the next two weeks. It passed quickly while he worked on repairing a couple dents in someone’s Honda.

  
          Dean waited in the parking lot for Sam’s school to get out. The middle school got out a little later than the high school, but it did give dean a little bit more time to read about Castiel. As he read, he learned that he had two siblings and that he was working with one of the Kansas senators on an environment improvement bill. It was abundantly clear that Castiel was a hot shot at Saint Hester’s, known for being great basically. Dean looked up and watched Sammy walk out of the building. His eyes tracked him all the way to the door of his ’67 Chevy Impala. Dean watched as a girl with almost blonde hair ran up to Sam, said something that made him smile awkwardly, and run back to her gaggle of friends—all of which were giggling.  
          “New girlfriend Sammy?” Sam scoffed and took his hands out of his pockets, clutching a little white piece of paper. He threw it in Dean’s general direction, smirking as Dean flailed to catch it and still missed. Dean unfolded it gingerly, trying very hard not to tear the tiny thing.

  
          Dear Sam,  
                    I think you’re really cute. Would you want to hang out sometime?  
                                                                                                                        Becky Rosen

  
          “Who’s Becky?” Sam hung his head, obviously made uncomfortable.  
          “She’s had a crush on me since kindergarten. I don’t exactly like her back.” Dean nodded. He tossed the note somewhere on the dash. The engine roared to life and Dean peeled out of the parking lot, earning a few pointed looks from teachers.

  
          By the time Dean had dropped Sam off at the library, the kid was such a freakin’ nerd, he was busying himself thinking once again about Castiel. This time he pulled out the questionnaire he was supposed to fill out before Monday. He read through some of the questions that were from Naomi, those were more general and necessary knowledge about alleges and such. On the reverse side, there were the questions Castiel had come up with himself. The instructions were to fill out per day. It made sense, as there were fourteen questions listed. The answers could be one word, or a paragraph. Castiel said it didn’t really matter. The first was easy enough. “What was your first impression of me?”. Dean snorted a little bit. Castiel had already made his impression on Dean through his many many accomplishments. And Dean would be damned to say that he wasn’t intimidated. Dean couldn’t pinpoint the moment when he had gone from not caring at all whatsoever about what Castiel Novak thought of him, to worrying that he wouldn’t be good enough of a story for the young Einstein.

  
          Dean leaned his chair back and waited for Sam, knowing it would probably be another hour at the very least for the scruffy haired kid to turn up from the geek section. Dean lamented that libraries didn’t carry any porn while he stared out into the parking lot. Dean hadn’t meant to reach for the packet again, but his body had betrayed him. His eyes fell onto the picture again. His head filled with thoughts of how good looking Castiel was. He pushed them all away, putting them in a lead box and burying them.

  
          Dean had known for awhile that he didn’t strictly prefer women, but with his father being his father he knew that he would be dead by morning if John ever found out. It was easier to treat the thoughts as poisonous than to painfully wonder what it all would be like. Even though the thoughts of Castiel were six feet under, he could still feel those blue eyes staring right back at him.

  
          Sam piled in the car about thirty minutes later, sooner than usual. Dean had decided that they were going to stay at Bobby’s that night. John would likely be gone within a week, but Dean wanted to minimize the time he would spend with his father as much as humanly capable. Sam had his nose buried in a comic book about monsters. A fond smile graced Dean’s face at the simplicity of the action. Dean wanted Sam to stay young forever, never have to grow up and face the world and all of its problems.

            
          Bobby was happy to see them when they piled out of the car, embracing them both. It only took one look from Dean and Bobby knew. Bobby never complained about the boys when they stayed the night. He was grumpy and gruff but cared for Sam and Dean like they were his own. Dean considered Bobby to be more of a father to him than John ever was or ever would be. Dean’s phone rang while they were all on the couch, Bobby and Sam discussing some important issue, and Dean was content just to listen.  
          “Hello?” Dean hadn’t recognized the number.  
          “Hello, is this Dean Winchester speaking?” The voice was female and familiar.  
          “Depends who’s asking” There was a moment of charged silence before a reply came through.  
          “This is Naomi, calling to go over a few things about the exchange program.” Dean rolled his eyes.  
          “What more could I possibly need to know? You just talked to us hours ago.”  
          “It has been brought to my attention that you will be allowing Castiel Novak to shadow you? Yes?”  
          “That’s right.” He heard the scratch of a pen on paper.  
          “Do you have any questions concerning your end of the exchange?” Dean thought about it for a moment.  
          “I’ve been reading throughout Castiel’s file…and it seems like the guy has racked up a number of accomplishments. Are you sure I’m they guy you want mister star pupil to shadow?” Naomi’s laugh sounded on the other end of the line.  
          “Is it not fair to say that you have accomplished quite a lot as well? Just because you two deal on opposite ends of the scholastic spectrum doesn’t mean any one of you haven’t worked as hard or done impressive things.” Dean let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding.  
          “Alright, thanks for that Naomi.”  
          “Is that all you have questions on?” Dean hummed an affirmation through the receiver, “Lovely, have a good night then.” Dean tossed his phone onto the bed. Apparently Dean was the only one that thought that he hadn’t really accomplished all that much in his three years of high school. Castiel meant nothing to him, so he shouldn’t be worried about any disappointment that may or may not be experienced.  
Dean joined in on the debate between Bobby and Sam when he returned. The three of them talking late into the night and falling asleep on the couch. Dean knew that it was pretty likely that he was staying at Bobby’s for the weekend. He tried not to think of drunk fathers or bright blue eyes as he fell asleep, but ended up thinking of both.

  
          Sam always woke up first. Something about it not being healthy to sleep in for too long. He usually scrounged up something for them to eat too. Without Sam, Dean didn’t know if he and Bobby would eat anything but microwaveable dinners. His neck was bent out of shape from sleeping at an awkward angle, and it hurt to move it too fast. It was already close to noon by the time he ambled into the kitchen and sat down. Bobby had planned on working in the shop that day, and Dean figured that he would join him.

  
          At around five o’ clock, Dean came back in to catch the latest episode of Dr. Sexy M.D. Not really caring that Sam had nearly laughed himself hoarse when he saw Dean humming along to the intro. The night was spent playing poker and drinking beer, Sam usually wanted to try some, but Dean and Bobby always firmly denied it. The kid was still too young. They fell asleep in the same fashion as the night before, being careful not too sleep on his neck the same way.  
When Dean woke up on Sunday, he wasn’t too pleased to remember that he was going back to school the next day. Even less so when he realized that he had a test and the Saint Hester’s kids were making their appearance. None of the family had ever been ones for the gospel, so they spent the Sunday helping Bobby around and doing some neglected homework. He tried to stretch out the hours he had between now and six in the morning, but they passed alarmingly fast. He really didn’t want to think about how the next morning was going to be the start of the worst two weeks of his life.

  
          Dean tossed and turned on the couch. Sleep wasn’t coming easy. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Dean had reread the packet on Castiel and was feeling inferior again. Or maybe it was the blue eyes he saw whenever he closed his own. It was hard to say.

  
          Dean didn’t know when he had fallen asleep, only that he was horribly tired now. At some point or another he had rolled off onto the floor. He peeled his cheek off the carpet, the imprint still dotting his skin. His legs felt like deadweight as he dragged himself around the house, only grabbing a slice of toast for breakfast.

  
          As dead as his body felt, his mind was humming with anticipation. By the time he had dropped off Sam at the middle school, it was almost unbearable. Dean mostly wanted to get this over with, but a part of him was the smallest bit of excited. After all, he did get to skip class for the next two weeks. And if he was lucky, one of the Saint Hester’s chicks could be a real babe. The second that he parked the Impala, his stomach lurched, for when he looked up he was staring at the bus with the words “ Saint Hester’s Academy for Art and Science” printed on the side. He grabbed his back pack and the packet he had now read through about four times.

  
          You could almost feel the tension in the hallway. Some of it was anticipation, like Dean’s, but some of it was bitterness at having private school kids on their turf. He saw Lisa as he walked toward the guidance center, stomach dropping when she glared daggers at him. He took a slow breath in before pushing through the doors to the guidance center.

  
          Naomi and Crowley were speaking to each other, both of them were smiling, and Dean almost felt blessed for witnessing history in the making. Crowley turned his eyes on Dean, not cold or calculating for once.

  
          “Dean Winchester?” Naomi said, crossing his name off of a list as he nodded. Crowley gestured down the hallway telling him to go talk with his friends while they waited for everyone to arrive. Dean walked down the hall, passing the door where someone had taped a paper to the door that read ‘Saint Hester’s'. His heart was positively thumping, a reaction Dean was puzzled by. He didn’t like Castiel, but this reaction suggested he was more excited than anxious.  
When he entered the room that Crowley had mentioned, Meg greeted him immediately. He noticed that she had put some effort into her appearance, a change from the more edgy style she usually preferred.

  
          “So Dean, how are you feeling?” Meg’s cheeks were flushed, a suggestion that she may feel the same way.  
          “To be completely honest. I’m confused, and pretty anxious.” It was none of Meg’s business how he felt, but Dean thought that someone should know. Meg nodded, signaling that she felt the same. A knock at the door had the room falling silent. Naomi peeked her head in, a warm smile resting on her face.

  
          “Are you ready to meet everyone?” Dean’s stomach clenched. No, he definitely wasn’t ready to find out how is emotions would change the moment he met Castiel. The silence in the room must have been enough for Naomi. She stepped into the room, swinging the door wide with her. About twenty Saint Hester’s kids filed into the room, all looking for their shadows. Dean’s eyes searched the crowd, looking for dark hair and blue eyes. He had been looking for about thirty seconds, and was starting to get a little concerned when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, now level with the gorgeous blue eyes that had chased him from sleep.  
          “Hello, Dean.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cas, do you want to know something?” Cas looked up at him, puzzled. Dean watched where his brows creased together and the delicate tilt of his head. It just wasn’t fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. You guys. Thank you so much for being this supportive so early on. You are amazing.

          Dean’s eyes slid up Castiel’s face. Wow. Dean was grateful for the view at the very least. Dean realized he had been staring for an unfriendly amount of time while Castiel’s hand was still extended toward him. Dean flinched as he snapped out of it and gripped his hand firmly.

  
          “Hi, Castiel.” Dean wasted no time in gripping his hand right back. Castiel’s grip was tight around his hand, the skin rough with calluses, presumably from gardening. Dean couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t, as gazed into the deep blue eyes that met his. A flurry of adjectives tore through Dean’s brain, all of which he refused to acknowledge. Castiel suddenly blanched and pulled his hand back. _Holy shit. I didn’t let go did I?_ Dean chastised himself silently before licking his lips and looking back to Castiel. The apples of Castiel’s cheeks were slowly turning pink under his gaze, and a thrum of unwanted satisfaction pulsed in Dean’s chest. The silence between them was growing awkward and Dean was unbelievably grateful for Naomi breaking it.

  
          “Alright, it appears that everyone has found their partner. Now, everyone from Saint Hester’s should have a short list of some survey questions. They will ask you these questions twice more, in seven, and fourteen days. I’ll give you all a minute to complete those.” Castiel nodded and shrugged his bag off. It took him no less than five seconds to find the paper because of course he was organized. Dean had to rifle through his bag for a good minute or two before finding anything.

  
          “Dean, I’m just going to ask you these questions…now” Dean was almost embarrassed for Castiel. The poor guy was so painfully awkward. Dean smiled and nodded, hoping to stir awake some confidence. “Okay, I’ll start…now.” Dean couldn’t help the little laugh that bubbled from his lips. Castiel looked up sharply.                                 .          "What?”  
          “It’s nothing, but seriously dude, you can relax.” His shoulders seemed to lay flatter at that, and Dean counted it as a small victory.  
          “What are you looking forward to the least from this experience?” Dean thought that the question would better be what are you looking forward to. Because he wasn’t too keen on anything. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t just be rude. Castiel didn’t deserve it—not really.  
          “Probably losing my free time.” Castiel nodded and scribbled it down on the line.  
          “What are you looking forward to the most?” Nothing. Dean answered mentally.  
          “Getting out of class early.” Castiel’s face remained impartial as he wrote that down as well.  
          “Of what you know about me, what interests you the most?”  
          “That fact that you’re a freakin’ genius,” Dean snapped his mouth shut. He had not meant to say that. It didn’t help that Castiel was nearly the shade of a tomato at the compliment. Dean immediately looked around the room, trying to look at anything but Castiel’s face.  
          “Ok, last one. What is one thing that I should know about you?” Dean didn’t know what to say. For all he cared, he wanted to be as far from Westchester as humanly possible. After letting the genius comment slip, his brain had gone into emergency mode.  
          “I’d die for my brother, Sammy.” Castiel’s eyes flared at the words, and an emotion Dean couldn’t place ghosted over his face. He wrote it down and flipped the paper over. Dean toyed with a string on his pants as they, once more, found themselves looking at each other.

  
          “So Castiel, what’s up with your name?” Castiel tilted his head, obviously not sure what Dean was implying. “I mean I’ve never heard it before. What does it mean?” Castiel’s lips tilted up in the smallest smile he’d ever seen.  
          “My mother named me Castiel after the Angel of Thursday even though I was born on a Sunday. Something about irony and deeper meaning. I never really cared to listen to be completely honest,” He gave a breathy laugh and Dean wanted to bottle it up. Dean shook the thoughts away. No. It only took imagining John to get a grip on those feelings.  
          “It is a bit…different. That’s for sure.” Castiel nodded, silent. Dean was going to simply die if the next two weeks passed in awkward silence. “My brother Sam—I think you two would get along well. He’s leagues smarter than me. You two could bond over that.” Dean wanted to smack himself for lacing the little compliment in there again. The tiny smile graced Castiel’s face again and Dean was entranced by it for the second it lingered. Dean was so irreversibly damned.  
          “I hardly think that’s true. From what Naomi has told me, you’re something of an Olympian around here.” Now it was Dean’s turn to be taken aback.  
          “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. She talked me up too much.” Dean never did take compliments well.  
          “Dean, I’ve seen you play. She barely did you justice if you ask me.”  
          “You-You’ve seen me play?” Dean wondered how that was possible. The Saint Hester’s kids didn’t have a team.  
          “My brothers were always so upset that we didn’t have any games of our own that they dragged me along to every single one of Westchester’s. I’ve seen you playing since you were a freshman.” Dean’s leg began bouncing. He didn’t know if he should thank him for coming or be slightly afraid that Castiel had been watching him for the past three years.  
          “Well, then you know how much I sucked.” Castiel shook his head in disbelief.  
          “As a freshman, Dean, a freshman Gabriel always insisted that you were still the best player on the team. I couldn’t help but agree with him.”  
          “Listen, Cas, I’m flattered, really I am, but that same year Asa Fox was captain, and he plays for Notre Dame now. He could kick my ass into next week at football.”  
          “What did you just call me?” Castiel’s eyebrows had knitted together again. Dean feverishly thought over what he had just said, but he kept drawing blanks.  
          “Sorry, what?”  
          “Cas. You called me Cas.” Shit. Holy shit. He had just given Castiel a nickname within ten minutes of meeting the kid. Dean wondered what was wrong with him. At least Castiel didn’t seem mad about it, just confused.  
          “Yeah, I just—I thought it was easier than Cast—” Dean felt the heat in his cheeks as he tried to explain himself.  
          “Dean.” Castiel cut him off, “I don’t mind. Not one bit. Call me Cas.” Dean nodded, releasing a grip on his knees that he hadn’t remembered holding. Now if only his heart would stop racing like he was running a marathon.  
          “Will do…Cas.” Castiel threw back his head and laughed. Dean couldn’t stop his eyes from flying open. Or the grin that was now spanning his face. The sound of Cas laughing…made up for all the shit that would be his life over the next fourteen days. A smile lingered on his face even after Cas had long since returned to his stoic manner.  
          “Ok, I trust that everyone has completed the survey questions and gotten to know each other a bit.” Forty heads nodded in Naomi’s direction, “Ok for the remainder of the time until lunch you will show your students around the school, then return to room 121-B at eleven. I’ll explain the rest if we can get that far.” A few light chuckles sounded and Dean began to stand up.  
          “Hey, Cas?” Dean’s tongue darted out to soothe his lips.  
          “Yes, Dean?”  
          “I was thinking we could just work through my schedule since that’s really what we’ll be doing for the next few weeks?” Castiel swung his bag over his shoulder and turned to face Dean.  
          “Whatever you think is best, Dean.” Dean was grateful that Cas was easy to please. Cas was quiet and simple and—. Dean cut himself off there. They hustled out the door to avoid the congestion that was sure to ensue. Dean led Cas out of the guidance center and toward his first period class. Cas was mostly silent on the way, only stopping to ask about posters or little nuances of the hallways. They had made it all the way through Dean’s third period on A days before Cas spoke up again.  
          “Dean, do you like Westchester?” Dean stopped walking for a moment to consider it. A heartbeat later, he felt the press of a body against his, and he pitched forward. Cas was flailing, trying to regain his balance, and Dean had staggered attempting the same. Cas was firing quick apologies, but Dean was trying not to laugh. There was just something about Cas when he was flustered that without fail made Dean smile.  
          “Cas.” Castiel was still apologizing, “Cas, it’s okay. Cas, relax. Cas.” Finally he had shut up. He was blushing furiously again, and Dean caught his treacherous arm as it made a beeline for Cas’ messy hair, thrown off by the flailing. “To answer your question, I find Westchester to be tolerable. How do you like Saint Hester’s?” Cas averted his eyes and kept walking.  
          “Saint Hester’s is…it’s okay.” Dean nodded and quickened his pace to catch up.  
          “But I mean, it’s catholic isn’t it?” Cas threw a glance at him over his shoulder.  
          “Yes, Saint Hester’s is a catholic school, but there are a couple kids who don’t have to participate in the religious activities.”  
          “Are you one of them?” Castiel stopped where two hallways met, not knowing which to take.  
          “My mother named all of my brothers after angels…she’s a bit of a fanatic. I didn’t have a choice.” Dean pressed his lips together. At least John had never tried to make them conform to any religion.  
          “Well that really sucks. I’m sorry.” When Cas didn’t reply, Dean spoke again “Hey, Cas. You know that running into me is just fine, right? I’m not mad or annoyed or anything…” Dean didn’t really know what he had been trying to say. Cas nodded, but didn’t say anything else for the remainder of the tour. By the time they had reached 121-B, Dean was certain that he had royally pissed off Castiel on the first day. And that was why he gripped Castiel’s arm and pulled him outside the classroom.

  
          “Look, Cas. We are spending the next two weeks together. Practically twenty four hours a day, might I add. I really don’t think either of us will get through it if you are pissed at me the whole time,” Castiel’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, “Maybe you didn’t really want to be here, but neither did half the kids in that room. The least we can do is not hate each other. Please, I really don’t want to wish for death every day for the next two weeks. Please.” Castiel blinked a few times.  
          “You think I’m upset with you?” Dean nodded. Well duh.  
          “I mean ever since the thing in the hallway, you have hardly breathed a word.” Castiel looked to the opposite wall.  
          “Well, I’m not upset with you.” Well, that’s great.  
          “Okay. I’ll bite. What are you upset about?” Cas looked up at him, a doleful look in his haunting blue eyes.  
          “It’s my mother. Michael texted me. Said she’s doing crack again. Hasn’t been seen in a week. She might be dead for all we know.” Cas leaned his head against the wall, looking so pitiful and resigned that Dean wished he could hug him. Instead, he brought a hand to Castiel’s elbow.

  
          “I think I know how you feel. My dad goes missing for weeks too, always coming back drunker than the last time.” It made Dean slightly uncomfortable, opening up to the semi-stranger. But it seemed to do Cas some good, as he stood up straight and met Dean’s eyes.  
          “That…That helps. Thank you, Dean.” Castiel’s eyes flicked to Dean’s hand, still on his elbow. He drew it back slowly, trying not to spook either one of them.  
          “Yeah, don’t mention it, Cas.”

  
          As it turns out, they were one of the last groups back to the room which gave them only about one minute to fill with idle conversation. It turned out Cas was a cat person, as was Dean. Something about dogs just didn’t agree with Dean. This time it was Crowley that addressed the mass of assembled students.  
          “Hello boys, girls. Naomi has arranged a little system. Each of you will write a letter to your shadow, one today and one on the last day. You will exchange them on the last day. Please, don’t be rude in your letters. I know the Westchester kids are terrible.” Laugher burst from the students, mostly Saint Hester’s kids.

  
          Dean finished his quickly, just two paragraphs about what he thought about Cas and how his opinion of the program had already changed. Though when Meg asked him about it, he told her that he just wrote the alphabet over and over. Cas took longer to finish, Dean watched the pen move in his hand, watched as perfect cursive emerged on the page. Dean knew his handwriting wasn’t the best, but he didn’t know that someone’s handwriting could be so good. By the time the lunch bell rang, they had passed in all of the letters and pens.

  
          Dean knew where he wanted to take Cas for lunch. There was a little place called the Roadhouse not five minutes from the school. Served the best pie in the state, and today there was nothing Dean needed more. Dean could tell that Cas was still upset, and he couldn’t blame him.

  
          “Cas, do you want to know something?” Cas looked up at him, puzzled. Dean watched where his brows creased together and the delicate tilt of his head. It just wasn’t fair. Out of everyone he could have been assigned, he had gotten stuck with the most attractive of them all. Even the most attractive girl from Westchester didn’t compare to Castiel, not really. Dean knew he wasn’t supposed to think these things, but his brain was already tired.  
          “Yes, Dean?” Dean took a deep breath. Hopefully what he was about to say would bring back the blushing Cas and chase out the sad one.  
“This morning you asked what I found most interesting about you?” Cas didn’t seem to be catching on quite yet. Good. The longer Dean could keep Cas in the dark, the better the reaction would be.  
          “I assume that you’re talking about the survey question?” Dean nodded.  
          “Well, I might have told a bit of a lie. You are a genius, one of the smartest people I’ve talked to, that’s for sure. But do you want to know what I actually find most interesting about you?” They had now nearly reached Dean’s precious car.  
          “If you’d like to tell me, Dean.” Dean could already feel the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, anticipating what was to come.  
          “What I truly find most interesting about you, Cas,” He paused, making sure he knew what to say, “are your eyes. Your haunting, blue eyes.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the kind of smile that peeled your lips apart and let your teeth shine. It made your eyes bunch up and your features soften. It was a smile of adoration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the support. I think I've figured out an update schedule for the most part. I'll update every other day at least (maybe once a day if I find the time) until August 21, (lol shoutout to school) and then probably once a week from there. This is going to be a long fic, so buckle up my friends. Don't be fooled by all of the sweet nothings I'm pouring into your ear. Angst is coming...

          Dean didn’t want to acknowledge how desperately he had wanted to say beautiful, for Castiel’s eyes were exactly that. Instead, Dean watched with rapt attention.

  
          The first thing that changed were the hard lines at the corners of his mouth as his lips parted, forming a soft expression of surprise. Dean felt a pulse of satisfaction as the corners of Castiel’s eyes crinkled, and the lovely eyes met Dean’s. The soft intake of breath—barely audible nearly threw Dean over the edge. There Cas was. Looking so much like a child that Dean wanted to protect him.

  
          “I—um—thank you, Dean. No one has ever told me that before.” Dean only took a moment to bask in the loveliness of the eased tension. Only a moment before the words hit him and he said the first thing that came to mind.  
          “Bullshit.” The word was breathy and light, but Dean meant it.  
          “Excuse me?” Castiel still looked lovely as his brows consulted each other once more.  
          “I call Bullshit. Eyes like yours? There is absolutely no way I’m the first. There has to be someone. Maybe a chick from Saint Hester’s…Maybe your mother. But there’s no way that friggin me is the first to say something. Not possible. Bullshit.” He hadn’t realized that Cas was leaning against the passenger side of the Impala. Or that his hand was directly next to Cas’ head, holding up his body.

  
          “I don’t see why that’s so hard to believe. After all, my mother, you know, the strung out crackhead, was never one for compliments. And as far as ‘chicks’ go…” Cas trailed off, but Dean got the point.  
          “What?” Dean’s thoughts had gone all sorts of screwy. He was lucky to get that word out.  
          “You’ll need to be a little more specific,” Cas folded his arms, looking all sorts of ways that Dean didn’t dare imagine…didn’t dare hope for.  
          “Do you mean to say…that you have never had a girlfriend?” Cas fiddled with his sleeves, suddenly very interested in the ground.  
          “Well, I never really—” Dean didn’t really care what Cas was planning on saying. There were too many questions that Dean just had to ask.  
          “Castiel Novak, genius, blue-eyed mystery man, has never had a girlfriend. That’s right up there with Dean Winchester got a 4.0 this semester on my list of things I believe. How is it possible?” Dean couldn’t put a damper on his emotions. He was feeling too much too fast. Mostly hope, but a great deal of wrong too.  
          “I never really had the occasion. What with all the projects, assignments, clubs, taking care of my mom. What have you. And the girls at Saint Hester’s…just aren’t really…my type.” Cas’ words came out awkwardly, but the delivery of the information had no effect on how Dean understood it.  
          “Ok…no girlfriend. I can understand why…but you’ve at least…you know. Haven’t you?” If Dean had thought that he had seen Castiel blush before, it was nothing compared to the inferno that was slowly devouring his face now. Oh God, sweet baby Jesus, help me. Dean didn’t know what to think. Here stood the most attractive person he’d ever seen—well, Dr. Sexy came close—and Dean knew how much of a disappointment he was by even thinking the thoughts he currently was. Dean knew and he still didn’t care. This wild hope that maybe there was a snowball’s change in hell of—No. Images of broken bottles and slammed doors stemmed the flow of what if’s and Dean regained his hold on reality. He hated it.

  
          “Well, I held hands with a girl named Alex once in fifth grade…” Everything ground to a halt. Blue-eyed beauty Castiel had never even kissed someone. With each piece of information Dean received, the more impossible the situation became.  
          “Well, Cas. We’re going to have to set some goals aren’t we?” Cas’ face scrunched up again, and Dean laughed, touching Cas’ shoulder as he reached around him to open the door. “But for now, how about we grab some lunch?” Cas nodded in agreement, the blush still struggling to fade from his cheeks. Cas’ hands roamed the dashboard as he inspected the marvelous car.  
          “Like what you see, Cas?” The boy looked up, eyes dazzling as always.  
          “I do, very much.” In a different context, Dean imagined those words would have meant much more to him than they did now.  
          “Tell me about Saint Hester’s. Who are your friends? What’s it really like? What do you guys do for fun?” Dean surprised himself at how much he actually meant the questions. He wondered how in only a couple hours he had gone from craving death to get out of the exchange program, to gazing into Cas’ endless blue eyes like some broad from a chick flick.

  
          “As far as friends go, I’ve got Balthazar who thinks it’s incredibly funny to call me ‘Cassie’ and hide my assignments from me, just to watch me go crazy trying to find them. There’s Samandriel, probably the nicest kid I’ve ever met, bought me lunch every day for two months while my mom forgot that I can’t live off of crack fumes. There’s Anna, I think you’d like her, very rebel-without-a-cause type. Once told a teacher to go to hell when her skirt didn’t reach her knees. She got suspended, but she’s something of a legend with the girls now. There’s a couple others, but they’re mostly involved in the exchange, so you’ll meet them,” Dean hadn’t realized how he’d hung on to every word, feeling pangs of treacherous jealousy as he briefly wished that he could have spent his day’s in the company of Cas. Cas was polite and easy to please and didn’t seem to be let down by Dean. It was something he appreciated endlessly. To Cas’ credit he had been right about Anna. Dean already thought she was a badass, and very much wanted to meet her.

  
          “They sound great, Cas. I’m happy for you.” Cas threw a small smile at Dean, unaware of how desperate Dean was to catch it and never let it go.  
“And for what Saint Hester’s is like…imagine Westchester but with more homework, uniforms, and crazy amounts of drama.” Dean shuddered, for Cas just described hell on earth. No wonder so many had signed up to ditch the place for two weeks.

  
          “I imagine that we do the same things that you guys do for fun, except our parties are always full of drugs. Ask anyone, you will never see more drugs in one place than a Catholic school party. For the most part, everyone who follows the local football scene supports Westchester, except Alistair and Azazel. They insist on attending every Green Valley game. If you ask me, I think it’s just to be contrary.” Dean huffed a laugh. He liked hearing Cas’ little opinions. Dean could have listened to Cas talk about his friends and the nuances of private school life for as long as Cas would have him, but the drive to the Roadhouse was five minutes, if that.

  
          “Wow, that is not what I was expecting, but I’m kinda glad to hear it. I always kind of thought that you guys were the stick-up-the-ass weirdo types.” Castiel’s chuckle was low and deep, almost knowing. Dean turned off the car, making sure Cas’ door was unlocked before he stepped out.  
          “We have our fair share of people who think they’re better than everyone else. Rachel and Hannah seem to have bonded over their shared presumption that no one is good enough for either of them.” Dean shook his head, it didn’t make sense to him. He’d spent his whole life feeling the exact opposite.

  
          The Roadhouse wasn’t too big or flashy, but it felt loved and lived in. The floor was scuffed where countless pairs of shoes had stepped, old time-y music alternated with classic rock over the speakers, there was a neglected pool table in the corner, but Dean’s favorite part was the old diner style bar. He let his hand trail down Cas’s arm to bring him in the direction of the two stools he usually sat in with Sammy. A waiter showed up almost immediately.  
          “Well, I’ll be damned. If it isn’t Dean fuckin’ Winchester.” Dean swiveled to face the waiter.

          “Ash! Dude, it’s been awhile.” Dean tried not to sway in his seat as Ash’s firm hand clapped him on the back. Ash had coached Dean through the years, seeming to switch teams in perfect sync with Dean. Ash had been the first person Dean told when he received the MVP award last May.  
          “Damn straight it has. Now, what’ll it be for you boys?” Ash darted a look between them.  
          “Oh! Sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m Castiel Novak, an exchange student from Saint Hester’s.” Dean’s heart thudded at the purity in Castiel’s manners.  
          “Good to meet you Castiel.” Ash shot a smile at him, and Castiel lifted the corners of his mouth right back.  
          “I’ll take the special with a side of mashed potatoes, please.” Dean watched as Ash took no less than half a second to jot it down.  
          “And for you?” Ash turned to Cas, who’s napkin was spread in his lap, hands folded over it.  
          “I’ll have the Caesar Salad, please.”  
          “Any dressing on that?”  
          “No thank you, sir.” Ash sputtered a laugh at the title Cas had awarded him.  
          “Son, I’m from the South. The only people round there that get called Sir are vet’s and fathers. It’s not necessary, but I’m tickled pink.” Ash turned on his heel and walked toward the kitchen. Both Casitel and Dean laughed at that. Ash had a way with making awkward situations funny, a talent Dean could only hope to possess someday.

  
          As soon as the food arrived, Dean had mentally prepared a list of questions, not willing to let the conversation run dry.  
          “So, Cas, tell me about your gardening.” Dean tried not to sigh as Castiel’s eyes lit up. It was obvious that he was thrill Dean had brought up the topic.  
          “I gather that you know that gardening is a…favorite hobby of mine. I mostly do it to watch the bees. They are just so amazing. The way a creature so small is responsible for life as we know it. That’s a big part of my Eco final project, trying to save them. I find gardening itself to be very beautiful…and rewarding. Maybe I’ll show you my garden some time, let you see for yourself—and oh, I’ve been talking for a while, sorry.” Dean felt terrible as the light was sucked from Castiel’s eyes and he stared down at the counter.

  
          “Cas…don’t apologize for talking about what you love. Now tell me, what’s your favorite flower?” A smile ghosted across Castiel’s face and Dean was glad that he could bring that little remnant of happiness back.  
          “Red carnations, I think they’re…well…I think they’re beautiful. Why do you ask?” Dean didn’t really know if he wanted to admit the truth…that he had picked up a book on flower meanings a few years back and knew a bit about different flowers and the emotions they conveyed. He didn’t acknowledge that red carnations meant love and affection. Cas probably didn’t know and Dean sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up.  
          “Probably orchids. My mom used to plant them before she passed away. Sometime’s I’ll buy some and bring them to her grave.” Nothing he had said about that was false, but the reason he had told the truth was the meaning behind the orchid flower. You’re beautiful. And Castiel was, so Dean saw it fit he should know.  
          “Your mom passed away? Dean, I’m so sorry.” Castiel’s hand had shot out to grab his forearm. Castiel’s hands were impossible soft for all the gardening he did. Dean thought on it and realized that a lot of things about Castiel seemed impossible. Dean felt as though he was sitting across from a walking talking miracle.  
          “I’ve made my peace with it, but it hit my dad pretty hard. The drinking always gets worse the closer we get to November. Anyway, if you don’t mind me asking, I haven’t heard you talk much about your dad yet.” Castiel gave Dean’s arm a quick squeeze before his hand slithered back over the countertop and rested in his lap again.  
          “My father works in Washington D.C. he’s a lobbyist down there. He comes home about twice a year. Once for Christmas and once in August. It’s the only time that my mother manages to look halfway decent. My father knows about the addiction, I just don’t think he cares—”  
          “But what about you, Cas? He’s just gonna leave you with your mom? Cas she nearly let you starve. Not exactly mother of the year material.” Dean couldn’t tell if he’d said too much yet, Cas was still absorbing the words.  
          “I guess he figured that I knew how to take care of myself by now and was doing fine. He pays for everything we have, I can’t really afford to piss him off. And it could be worse. I’m on my own most days, anyway.” Dean would have taken Cas’ shoulder into his hands if he had trusted himself to do so. Touching Cas seemed like a very bad idea right now.  
          “Well, Cas, what can I say other than you're a tough kid?” Cas smiled, shaking his head and looking out the window back toward the school.  
          Not a moment later, Ash appeared, two plates of steaming food in his hands. Dean knew they were cutting it close on time, it seemed Castiel had noticed the same as he glanced down at his wristwatch. Castiel took bites of his salad, mouth closed dutifully as he chewed and swallowed. Dean’s eyes tracked the movements of Cas’ throat as it bobbed. Dean tore his eyes away and looked down to his own food. Lord, give me strength. Dean knew that nothing would come of his schoolgirlish actions, but it didn’t stop the longing from painfully twisting in his chest. Dean told himself that he was just missing Lisa, or that he was merely curious. It had absolutely nothing to do with the dark haired boy with the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen sitting in front of him.

  
          “If you enjoy gardening so much, how did you end up in journalism?” Dean was genuinely curious. Castiel didn’t really seem like the reporting type.  
          “I took too many environment and horticulture classes the first three years of school, I’m missing an english credit. Naomi agreed to let me take Journalism instead of an extra literature class. I write a column on horticulture anyway, so I enjoy it.” Cas was so taken by the bees and flowers that he had left his core classes to be managed later. Something about that made Dean smile. It was the kind of smile that peeled your lips apart and let your teeth shine. It made your eyes bunch up and your features soften. It was a smile of adoration.

  
          “Why are you smiling?” A small laugh escaped Dean.  
          “It’s just—it’s you Cas.” Dean hadn’t meant to say that. All sorts of alarms were going off in Dean’s head. Alarms that screamed that the end was nigh, alarms that begged him to turn back now, but Dean might as well have been deaf. Castiel, with his little smiles and idiosyncrasies had rooted himself in the forefront of Dean’s mind, and those spectacular blue eyes were all Dean could—all Dean wanted to see.  
          “What do you mean?” Castiel tilted his head, and a screw came loose from the box containing all of Dean’s emotions. Dean was still grinning like a fool, too busy trying to keep his emotions in check to really think about what he was saying.  
          “It’s you. You’re amazing.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s it like? Kissing someone?” Dean tried not to choke as he heard the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hi there again everyone. I didn't really have much to do today...so I did this. Thanks for everyone who has read this! I really wasn't expecting this much feedback as a first-timer, but you guys have been amazing so thank you, so, so much

_You fucking dumbass_. Those were the words that played over and over like a broken record. What business did Dean have telling Cas anything like that. He was not all moony eyed over Castiel. He was not. That’s not something Dean could just brush off. _God fucking damn it. Damn me too_. Dean would have watched Cas, but his eyes were pinned to his hands. Dean knew they had to leave soon if they expected to make it to third on time, but Deans feet were superglued to the hardwood. What was he thinking. What was he _thinking_. The short answer was that he hadn’t been. That the words had slipped out, never mind if he meant them. Dean had gone too far. He couldn’t stop thinking, positively, absolutely, couldn't stop.

  
          “D-Dean?” Castiel’s voice had cracked halfway through. The knot of terror tied itself again, swelling until he thought his eyes must be the size of dinner plates when he met Cas’. “It’s fine. I know it meant nothing. I took it as a compliment if that helps any.” But that was just the thing. Dean had meant what he said with his whole heart. Every part of his being wanted to tell Cas that even though he had just met him, Dean was already entranced by his odd presence.  
“Yeah, Cas, I’m glad you understand. It meant nothing.” Dean threw a twenty on the table and stood. “We should probably get going. Though I wouldn’t mind being a little late.” Cas offered a pitiful smile as he stepped out of the Roadhouse. Dean wanted to slap himself, but instead just slammed the car door after him. The drive back was filled with Led Zeppelin, at least Dean couldn’t say something stupid if he was speaking. By the time they got back to the school, the warning bell had already rung. If it weren't for Physics being so close to the west doors, they definitely would have been late.

  
          Right as Dean was about to speak the teacher, Mr. Devereaux, spoke,  
          “Dean, care to introduce your new friend?” A nearly maniacal laugh escaped Mr. Devereaux’s lips. He always was kind of an oddball. Dean cleared his throat and soothed his dry lips with his tongue.  
          “Alright everyone, this is Castiel Novak.” His words were clipped and Cas seemed to shy away from them as they took their seats. A couple kids waved to Cas and Dean promised himself he would get jealous as Cas waved back to Eileen and Benny.  
          “Delinquents, today we’ll be taking a quiz on unit five. I hope you sorry suckers pass.” Dean cradled his head with his hands and let out a deep breath. He had never been good at physics, which was just perfect considering he had a twenty-first century Isaac Newton next to him. Cas was about to experience the depths of Dean’s academic failure, up close and personal. Dean flinched as Cas’ hand rested on his shoulder, barely keeping a grasp on his thoughts as Cas leaned in to whisper something to him.  
          “You’ll do great.” Dean shook his head.  
          “No, man, I’m totally screwed, but you’re probably great at physics, so just don’t judge too hard, alright?” Dean hadn’t meant the words to carry undertones of spite, but there they were. He couldn’t really help it. The smartest kid in all of Kansas was sitting right next to him, about to watch him fail a quiz that would have been easy as breathing for Cas. Cas’ hand flew from his shoulder and back to his lap.

  
          Dean looked over the quiz. _Mother of shit_. There were ten questions, and as he scanned them, he knew the answer to only one. He filled in the answer choice for the question he knew and started at number one. How do induction cookers work? Dean was about to hazard a guess and fill in B, but a knee knocked against his as he went to fill it in. His eyes shot to Cas, was he really helping him _cheat_? That made Cas about a thousand times cooler in Dean’s book. He moved the pencil to D. Another knee. He moved to fill in A. Nothing. The rest of the test passed like this, and it was exactly what Dean needed to bring him out of the sour mood he’d been in. Mr. Devereaux usually let the class out immediately after quizzes, something about it being pointless trying to teach when the kids just wanted to ask the others what answers they got.

  
          I had an idea.” The voice was Cas’. They had left the room to walk around the science wing, making sure to stop by all the displays so Cas could get a good look at them.  
          “Care to share, Cas?” The awkwardness had cleared, but it hadn’t changed Dean’s decision to brand Cas with a bid red “X”. _Not an option_.  
          “What if I helped you with physics, and you teach me how to fix an engine? Does that sound fair?” Dean came to a dead stop. It didn’t help that Cas seemed to be an actual angel. The red paint chipped.  
          “Cas, do you mean that? Really?” Dean was sure he could teach Cas how to fix an engine. Shit like that was easy. Shit like physics was not.  
          “Of course I do, Dean. My car breaks down all the time, God it’s so old. It would be nice to know how to fix it.” Cas was smiling, and Dean was grinning right back.  
          “Cas that would be absolutely perfect, if you’re sure you’re willing to teach someone like me something like physics.” Cas was studying the results of a project one of the botany students had just finished.  
          “Trust me, once you get past the yuck factor of physics, it’s all downhill from there.” Dean wanted to wrap Cas up in a hug and thank him some more, but that was not something platonic friends did. That was not something Dean would do.  
          “Cas, that’s awesome. Thank you.” Cas nodded, a look of content on his face, “What’s this project about?” That got Cas to look at him.  
          “Well, we’re supposed to learn about your lives and then compare them to stereotypes. We also have to complete a journal and several question sheets about the ‘experience’.” Dean nodded. He didn’t want to screw this up for Cas.  
          “So, what do you think? Does it live up to the hype?” Dean had mindlessly asked the question, not really thinking, but half curious.  
          “You certainly do.” Dean almost missed it. The subtle switch of ‘it’ and ‘you’. And damn it all, all that remained of the “X” was a right angle. But it meant nothing. It meant nothing. He was reading into things. Looking for clues that just weren’t there. Dean was lost on how Cas had managed to shatter his resolve with one pronoun. God Dean was lost on him.

  
          “Autoshop doesn’t start for another thirty minutes still, is there anything in particular you’d like to see?” Cas considered it for a moment before responding.  
          “I’d like to see the football field. I’ve seen it before, but only from the stands. I want to know what it looks like for you guys.” Dean thought the request was a little odd, but it really wasn’t any trouble to walk down there. They passed a couple people that Dean knew, and he nodded his head to each of them.  
When they reached the doors that led outside, Cas stopped to read a flyer about football tryouts before walking to the field. The first thing Dean noticed was two figures, sitting very close together in the bleachers. They looked his way and immediately began walking toward him. Cas stepped out onto the turf, making a little noise as black pellets jumped up at his feet.

  
          Soon enough, the figures were close enough that Dean could make them out to be Meg and Alistair.  
          “Hey there sweetheart,” Meg’s voice reminded him of heavy cream, the kind you’d find in a pitcher if you went way down in Alabama. Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t move away from her.  
          “Meg, Cas. Cas, Meg.” Meg raked her eyes over Cas, making something in Dean ignite.  
          “Well aren’t you just gorgeous?” Meg had taken a step toward Cas, who was starting to blush. Dean wanted to stamp his foot and proclaim that Meg was just not allowed to say those things to Cas. No, it was Dean’s job to make Cas blush. Not Meg’s. Cas swallowed hard, looking back to Dean. “What do you say we ditch Dean and go find something better to do?” Dean was trying not to let his facial expressions shift. After all, it was Cas’ choice, and Dean sure didn’t like the implications of these feelings.

  
          “I-I think I’ll stay with Dean.” Meg let out a little laugh, the apples of her cheeks swelling as she did so. She looped her fingers around the base of his tie and untucked if from beneath his sweater.  
          “Are you sure, darling. I could show you a real good time.” Cas shifted, and Dean wanted nothing more than to pull him off the field. “Much better than Dean, I’m sure.” Meg was walking her fingers up his shoulder, and Dean clenched his fist hard. It’s up to Cas. It’s up to Cas. It’s up to Cas. Poor Cas had never been with a girl ever and Meg wasn’t exactly for beginners.

  
          “Maybe some other time?” Meg let out another dark chuckle, pulling Cas in by the tie before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.  
          “Let’s go Alistair. Oh, bye Dean, dearest.” She turned on her heel, Alistair shooting Dean a glare before following. It didn’t phase Dean, not when Cas had just been hit on by devil spawn.  
          “Cas, dude, I—” He cut himself short not really knowing what to say. Cas looked like he’d seen a ghost  
          “It’s not your fault Dean. Nothing happened.” Cas sealed his lips after than and began walking slowly around the field, Dean trailing.  
They left the field when the bell rang, hurrying to autoshop. Dean was planning on starting to show Cas how to fix an engine. It was on the way to autoshop that Cas asked what was perhaps the most surprising question yet.

  
          “What’s it like? Kissing someone?” Dean tried not to choke as he heard the question.  
          “It…depends. If the person you’re kissing it good at it, it’s nice, but only if you want it. If they’re terrible or you’re not that into it, it’s not that great.” Cas seemed satisfied with the answer and didn’t speak again for the rest of the walk to class.

  
          The introduction to the class went more or less the same as it had in physics.  
          “Cas, I can start teaching you how to fix your engine now if you’d like?” Cas nodded enthusiastically. As Dean could have predicted, Cas was a quick learner, picking up terminology and quick fixes a lot faster than Dean had. And that was saying something. They left thirty minutes in, something Dean wasn’t very fond of because standing there with Cas over an engine was pretty much how every fantasy of Dean’s had ever started. Though it was usually Dr. Sexy with him.

  
          Room 121-B was already humming with noise. This time it was only Naomi who greeted them, Crowley being elsewhere. Meg and Alistair were already seated, and mercifully didn't see them as they walked in.

  
          “Cas, have you ever wanted to date someone?” Cas chewed his bottom lip. Dean wondered if maybe this was a no-no question, but Cas opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut short by Naomi.  
          “Alright, since today is the first day we’re going to play a little bonding game of sorts for the next thirty minutes and then you all will go to wherever it is you’d like. I’ll be around with a set of index card for each pair of students. There are question written on them. Once you both are done with your piles, chat amongst yourselves until the final bell. Easy enough?” The students nodded in unison. This would be easy, possibly boring, but easy. Naomi wasted no time in distribution and they were off. Castiel started,

          “What is your favorite childhood memory?” It took nearly no thought to know the answer.  
          “When Sammy and I were younger, we bought fireworks for the fourth of July and shot them off in an empty field. Set the whole thing on fire, too.” Castiel let out a glorious laugh at their little story of arson. Dean started up again  
          “Would you rather hace toes the size of legs, or fingers the size of arms?” Dean wrinkled his nose, neither of those really sounded desirable to him.” Castiel considered it, carefully weighing pros and cons.  
          “Probably fingers the size of arms. I think it would be easier to garden with a set of built in rakes, not to mention being able to reach things that are very far away, plus how would I find shoes if my toes were four feet long?” Dean chuckled. Of course Castiel had reasoning behind it.

  
          “What is your biggest regret? And why?” Dean didn’t need much time to think about this either.  
          “I should have called the police when my dad came home one night, drunk as shit, and started beating me and Sammy to shit. I wanted to, but he was my dad, you know? If he were in prison he might have sobered up, might have been able to be a good dad, but I didn’t do it. And I will always regret that.” Castiel’s features had softened and he gave a solemn nod in reply.

  
          “What’s something no one knows about you?” Dean watched as Castiel’s eyes flared in surprise before calming again.  
          “When I was eight I broke Gabriel’s toy helicopter, but he thought Michael did it. No one knows it was me.” Dean laughed again. Loopholes. The rest of the time passed quickly, questions and answers. When the bell had finally dismissed them all, they had made it to the impala, Cas leaning against the door. Dean looked at him, wondering why he hadn’t gone in yet.

  
          “Dean?” Cas’ voice was rife with something like trepidation.  
          “Yeah, Cas” Castiel turned his head when he spoke.  
          “What’s something no one knows about you?” Dean thought hard. He could reply with something silly, like that his left knee always ached when it rained, or he could tell Cas something more serious like that he had almost starved one winter when he gave up all his food for Sam who was growing like a weed.  
          “There’s not many things that no one knows, I tell Sammy a whole lot, but something that even he doesn’t know is that under this big bad football player facade, I keep a journal religiously, I haven’t gone a day without writing in it since the sixth grade when Jo Harvelle first kissed me.” Cas smiled at the answer. The answer was half silly and half serious, the perfect compromise. Dean found himself surprised as Cas unerringly hummed along to ‘Ramble On’, checking off another box on the ‘Dean Winchester’s Dream Boy List’.

  
          They were pulling into the parking lot of the middle school when Cas turned in his seat to face Dean.  
          “I think there’s something you should know.”


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, it’s me, Dean Winchester, I would like to put in a personal request for you to strike me down where I stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I just want you all to know that your comments make me the happiest person alive. Thank you so much. You guys are amazing. Sorry for no update yesterday (Summer reading essays are just the best) But enjoy chapter six!

         On Dean Winchester’s list of “Things I Never Want to Hear Again in my Life” the pain in Cas’ voice when he said those words was near the top. Cas was picking at his nail beds, rife with nervousness. Dean didn’t think anything Cas was going to say would really change his opinion of the kid, especially because he was so nervous about it. 

         “Of course, Cas. It wouldn’t change a thing. I’d still like you just the same.” Dean said the words with as much platonic flair as he could muster up. 

         “A-and if it makes you uncomfortable, that’s something I can understand. I won’t be upset if it does.” Dean’s stomach twisted with the same uneasiness as it did when he someone said they ‘needed to talk’. 

         “Cas, really. Whatever it is, you’re still the smartest, most polite, kind person I’ve ever known.” Dean hoped the compliments would will away the _pain_ in his face. Cas didn’t even look up. Dean debated touching his shoulder, but he didn’t want to risk a negative reaction. 

         “Since about the fifth grade, I’ve…struggled with anxiety. Don’t worry, I take medication for it, but if I do have a panic attack at some point, I’ll probably just leave. You don’t have to come with me or anything like that. Just don’t draw attention to it, please.” Cas’ voice was so quiet that Dean barely heard the words, but they hurt. Did Cas really think he would be _mad_ about that? The poor kid has such a hard life as it is. It’s not like Cas could help it, either. The impala had gone silent, Dean realized that was his cue. 

         “Castiel,” Dean used his full name in hope of getting Cas to stop staring at the goddamn floor. Cas was _ashamed_. That was all sorts of backwards. Dean wondered if anyone had made Cas feel that way. And God damn it if that didn’t make Dean want to break their noses. Cas still hadn’t looked up. “Castiel, _look at me_ ,” Dean’s voice was a deadly sort of calm wherewithal the keeping himself from demanding answers, followed by retribution. Cas’ head turned slowly, meeting Dean’s eyes. 

         Dean sucked in an involuntary breath. He recognized that look. It was the look Sam had in his eyes every time John came home drunk as all shit. It was a look of unadulterated _fear_. “Cas, if you thought for _one second_ that having anxiety would make me think anything other than admiration for you, than you need to ask your dealer what he’s selling you.” Cas’ breathing hitched at the words, but shame still lingered in those blue eyes that Dean thought he could stare at all day, and that was _not_ okay. 

         Dean pulled his hand from his side and moved it to Cas’ shoulder. Cas was positively vibrating. “Hey…” Dean soothed. Cas still hadn’t spoken too wrought with terror to move his lips. “It’s okay Cas, it’s okay.” Cas let out a deep breath and closed his eyes as he allowed himself to relax against the seat. Dean continued rubbing soothing strokes along Cas’ bicep while the minutes ticked by. 

         “Dean.” Cas gritted out his name. Dean’s full attention was on Cas in record time. 

         “Yes, Cas?” Dean’s voice could only be described as breathless. 

         “You know what I find most interesting about you?” Dean felt the smile at the familiar words. 

         “What could that be Cas?” 

         “Your beautiful soul.” Dean pressed his lips together. Half because well… _Cas_ and half because it wasn’t true. Dean wasn’t a good person. Dean didn’t deserve someone like Cas. Not for two weeks, not for any amount of time. Cas’ eyes were still closed, but he must have felt Dean’s hand stall on his arm. 

         “Cas, I—” Dean was cut off by the chiming sound of the middle school bell. Cas cracked open an eye to see what was going on. “Say, Cas, how about meeting Sammy?” Dean’s obvious excitement worked miracles on Cas. Some of the color was returning to his face, and Cas appeared to inhabit his body once more. Dean watched for the kid who was at least a foot taller than the rest of the eighth graders and pointed him out to Cas. “Ridiculously tall, isn't he?” A little nod came in reply. Dean watched Sam as Becky ran up to him again, this time with a little bag in her hand. She handed it off to Sam quickly before running back to her friends. Dean smirked at the interaction, knowing how Sam was probably all disgruntled about it. 

         “Dean?” Dean turned to face Cas.

         “Thank you.” Cas said, the last dregs of fear now leaking away.

         “Don’t mention it, Cas. Now, are you ready to meet the famed Sam Winchester?” Cas chuckled, watching Sam as he approached the car. Dean rolled down his window and shouted for Sam to climb in the back. Sam threw him a confused look but followed his directions. Sam looked to Cas, Cas looked to Sam, but it was Sam who spoke first. 

         “Hey, I’m Sam. Who are you?” Sam was the picture of perfect manners. Dean wondered why Sam hadn’t asked about Cas earlier— _Oh shit. Ohshitohsitohshit._ Dean hadn’t told Sam. _Dean hadn’t told Sam._

         “I’m Castiel, but you can call me Cas.” Dean smiled at the use of his nickname. _Focus, Dean._

         “Castiel is…my exchange student…from Saint Hester’s.” Sam’s eyes shot open. 

         “Oh! Sorry, _Dean_ didn’t tell me anything about an exchange student.” Sam shot an accusatory glance his direction, and Dean returned a sheepish gaze. 

         “I guess it slipped my mind, Sammy.” Dean would never stop calling him Sammy. Not as long as Sam continued to be a _petulant little—_

         “Nothing to worry about, if there’s anything you want to know about me, just ask.” Cas, of course, remained his composure and thought of something intelligent to say. Sam nodded his thanks in the back seat. The blissful sound of Metallica filled the car for only two minutes before Sam reached his _octopus arms_ to the front of the car and turned off the radio. He hit Cas with question after question, the two of them eventually falling in to a conversation about important environmental issues that Dean wasn’t really listening to. An easy smile settled on Dean’s face as he realized how lovely it would be if this was his reality. _No._ Dean didn’t deserve Cas. Cas was everything good, and Dean might as well be the Cain to his Abel. As they pulled in to the driveway, Dean told the two of them to wait there while he checked to see if John had left yet. 

         Much to Dean’s surprise the man was gone without a trace, this put Dean in an infinitely better mood and he gave Cas and Sam the all clear to come in. The moment the door shut behind them, Dean remembered his backpack, forgotten on the backseat. 

         “Give me two seconds,” Dean explained, eyes lingering on Cas, and definitely _not_ thinking about how much he’d like to come home to that everyday. 

         Dean shut the door behind him and almost had a friggen heart attack when he turned around and saw his kid-brother right behind him. _How did he even_ do _that_? 

         “Is there something you want to tell me, Dean?” Sam crossed his arms. Dean rolled his eyes in response. 

         “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry about the exchange program thing. I wasn’t planning on it either.” Sam sat into his hip. He wasn’t going anywhere. 

         “That’s not what I mean.” Sam looked at Dean expectantly. Dean wasn’t getting it, and Sam could tell. “Dean. You like him. You like like him.” _Real mature Sam_. 

         “What’ve you been smokin?” Sam laughed, but it was void of any mirth. 

         “I know you Dean. And you’re being pretty damn obvious.” Dean hated how Sam had him down pat. And Dean wasn’t being obvious, he told himself. 

         “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He made a move to step around Sam, but Sam blocked his path. “Plus he’s straight as a ram rod for all you know.” Sam snorted, but let Dean pass. Satisfied with the answers he’d weaseled out of Dean. Dean ruffled Sam’s hair as he passed, opening the door to find Cas staring at some old pictures of Sam and Dean that hadn’t been touched since his Mom died. 

         “Is that really you?” Cas was smiling at a picture of Dean dressed as a bunny rabbit on his first halloween. Dean felt the heat in his cheeks as he walked to stand behind Cas. Dean noticed Sam clearing his throat and managed to flip him the bird over his shoulder. 

         “Yeah, Cas, that’s me alright.” Cas turned to face Dean, who was closer than usual. 

         “I think you were an adorable rabbit.” The two of them shared a moment of comical eye contact before they both burst out laughing. The laughter seemed endless, one fit combining with the next until they were both sore from it. When Dean looked up, Sam was there, looking for all the world like he was staring into a camera lens, a resigned expression on his face. Dean clapped Cas on the back.

         “It’s been awhile since I’ve laughed that hard, years even.” Cas was still beaming, and Dean caught himself leaning closer. _Earth to Dean Winchester._ “Are you hungry Cas?” Cas made a nondescript gesture that Dean took as a yes. Sam made a request for spaghetti, and Cas seemed to agree. Dean pulled out the noodles and sauce, still smiling as Sam and Cas continued their conversation in the other room. Twenty minutes later, Dean had called them all to the table, ready to eat. 

         “A chef Boyar-Dean special.” Dean loved making that pun. Sam rolled his eyes, but Cas grinned. 

         “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this meal?” Cas was playing along, and it made Dean stupidly happy. 

         “Only your company.” Dean had _not_ meant it to sound that sappy. Cas’ smile only got bigger. Sam nudged Dean under the table. Dean nudged him right back. _Sam was so_ juvenile. To be fair the kid was in middle school, where kids still passed notes and kissed quickly at recess. 

         “Cas, do you think you could help me with my life science homework?” Sam asked the question without any ill intentions. _God, it’s me, Dean Winchester, I would like to put in a personal request for you to strike me down where I stand._ Sam and Cas got along, it was making Dean’s heart do things that he didn’t really like to think about. 

         “For sure, what’s it about?” Dean’s eyes were doing their best impression of saucers. It wasn’t like Dean to get all shmoopy. Sam probably got along with plenty of people. It didn’t really change the fact that this was _Cas_. Dean was content to watch them as Sam explained the unit on the Calvin Cycle and the questions he was having trouble with, and _of course_ Cas explained it in a way Sam understood, _of course_ Sam and Cas were, _of course_ this was everything Dean had ever wished for and more, and _of course_ Dean couldn’t have it. 

         Dean made a resolution that he would enjoy Cas’ friendship as much as he could. Why waste such a good thing on being sad or jealous? Cas was damn near perfect, and not many people can say that they have basked in perfection for two whole weeks. Dean had given up on trying to stop the little thoughts about Cas from running amuck in his head. There just wasn’t a point anymore. As much as Dean wanted something more, he knew that Cas didn’t want someone like him, and Dean didn’t deserve someone like Cas. The realization didn’t sting like Dean expected it would. Instead it settled heavy and immovable in the back of his mind. Maybe they could be friends even when this was over. Dean knew he would like that. Dean would like to be a part of Cas’ life, a bigger part than the douche-bag athlete who Cas followed around for two weeks. He wanted to meet Cas’ friends. He wanted Cas’ friends to like him. He wanted to fit into Cas’ life as easy as breathing. Too bad Cas took his breath away. 

         By the time dinner was over it was about five-thirty, and Dean showed no signs of driving Cas back to the hotel. Cas was typing away at his computer, reporting on the day when Dean settled next to him on the couch. 

         “We have five and a half hours until Naomi wants you back. What should we do?” Dean thought he sounded childish, but he didn’t really care. He was still riding the high of the meal they’d shared. Cas finished the paragraph he was writing before answering. 

         “What do you want to do?” Dean wasn’t surprised that Cas had answered like that. In fact, he expected it and had a list of things at the ready. 

         “We could go see a movie, or go to a park, or I could introduce you to some of my friends…I could take you to meet Bobby, or Charlie, I think you would like Charlie, We could go visit the anthropology museum, I could teach you to play pool, or I can finish teaching you to repair engines.” Dean thought he had made a fairly good list, and watched eagerly as Cas considered the options. 

         “All of them. I want to do them all. Obviously, not tonight, but I want to do everything you said.” Dean smiled, incredibly satisfied with the answer. 

         “Where would you like to start?” Dean asked. Cas closed his laptop, looking at Dean.

         “I think I would like to visit Charlie.” Dean smiled. Charlie was going to love Cas. 

         “That’s a great one to start with.” 

         Dean made sure to ask Sam if he wanted to tag along. Sam said no with a little snipe about Dean having fun with his boyfriend. Seated in the car, Dean wondered what kind of music Cas listened to. 

         “Cas, what kind of music do you listen to?” Cas looked taken aback by the question, as if he’d been thinking about something else entirely. 

         “Oh, Dean, I don’t think you want to know.” Dean laughed, a contagious, bubbling laugh. 

         “What genre could be so terrible that you won’t tell me.” Cas gave him a crooked smile. 

         “Well, _I_ don’t think it’s terrible. But Dean Winchester, classic rock enthusiast, just might.” A part of Dean did a little dance because Cas _cared_ what _Dean_ thought. 

“Try me, Cas. I’ve had my fair share of listening done in my seventeen years of life.” Cas snorted, shaking his head, 

         “Dean, I listen to country.” Dean began laughing, and the laughing didn’t stop. He began to think he might crash the car, and he pulled over. Cas listens to country. It fit, but didn’t all at the same time, but it didn’t change the fact that Dean thought it was _hilarious_. 

         “Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” Cas said around a smile.

         “Never change.”


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cas, meet The Queen of Moons handmaiden, Dean Winchester,” Dean laughed as Charlie addressed him with the title. “I think I shall knight Castiel Novak as my Second.” Dean made a disgruntled noise.   
>  “Ok, how is that fair, Charlie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again: Thank you so much for liking the story! You guys really are amazing! Mwah! I have no intentions of leaving this story to die, so buckle up my friends :)

         Dean would have called it a miracle that they made it to Charlie’s in one piece, but nothing would ever seem more impossible to him than Castiel Novak. They walked up to Charlie’s front door, still quietly smiling about country music. Dean knocked, excited to see Charlie’s reaction to Cas. 

         “What’s up bitches!” Charlie’s smile was so vibrant, so infectious that he couldn’t help watching Cas’ face as the smile rose on it. 

         “Hey, Charlie, this is Cas, he’s my exchange student from St. Hester’s.” Charlie smiled and trapped Cas in a tight embrace. A pang of longing hit Dean so hard he thought he might have lost the ability to breathe for a moment. Charlie hugged him next and he hugged her right back. Charlie and Cas were making idle conversation as she showed him around the house. 

         “Why haven’t I seen you around Westchester, if you don’t mind me asking?” Cas’ voice sounded from down the hallway and Dean listened to the response, even if he already knew the answer. 

         “I graduated early, so I’m up at the college now,” Charlie replied, “How’s Dean treating you?” The sound of a screen door shutting blocked out the reply and Dean muttered a curse. 

         By the time the two returned to the living room, Dean had already set up Moondor. Dean would have killed Charlie if she brought up that the two played Moondor together to anyone else, but Cas seemed different, and he was supposed to be sharing every part of his life with Cas anyway. 

         “Cas, meet The Queen of Moons handmaiden, Dean Winchester,” Dean laughed as Charlie addressed him with the title. “I think I shall knight Castiel Novak as my Second.” Dean made a disgruntled noise. 

         “Ok, how is _that_ fair, Charlie?” Charlie just tossed her head back, laughing wickedly. Castiel played along, strutting around the room to sit next to Dean and only addressing him as Handmaiden, Dean tried not to fall over dead every time their knees knocked against each other, or when Cas used Dean’s thigh as a brace to stand up, Dean could have sworn that that nearly killed him. Charlie, of course was excited about the Clan Gathering, stressing about keeping the throne. Dean promised Charlie that he would attend the Gathering at her side. He knew that Sam would probably beg to go along, and Dean would let him come. The three of them talked late into the night about strategies, Cas came up with the winning one. She would earn the allegiance of the Trolls early on, to eliminate them as a threat, then she would claim the throne for the second year, promising the trolls better status. Whether or not she followed through, that was up to Charlie. 

         He pulled Cas aside for a second about an hour in while Charlie went out to pick up her cat, Bilbo from the vet before they closed. Dean located a deck of cards from one of the kitchen drawers. They came to an agreement to play poker. 

         “You do know how to play don’t you?” Cas nodded, but only slightly.

         “I’m okay.” Cas smiled totally distracting Dean for a couple seconds. 

         “Right, well don’t feel _too_ bad when you lose, okay?” Dean said. Cas sighed dramatically

         “I guess I’ll try my best to get over it.” The drama in his words shook a laugh loose in Dean. Dean dealt the cards, putting on his best poker face, he noticed Cas looking at him over the cards, studying his expressions. The first round that Cas won, Dean chalked it up to beginners luck. But after seven rounds of having his ass handed to him, he had to ask how Cas was doing this. 

         “Cas, what the hell.” Cas looked back up to him. 

         “Are you referring to the fact that you’ve been losing horribly?” Dean fought the smile off his face. 

         “I might be.” Dean said. Cas smirked. 

         “I told you I knew how to play didn’t I? When you grow up sneaking in to bars, so you can play poker to make some money, you pick up a few tricks.” Dean’s mouth dropped open. _Cas had hustled him_. 

         “You _bastard,”_ Dean said laughing. He threw his cards down on the table, unable to hold on to them through the aching laughter. Cas stuck his fingers under his chin, lifting it so that they were looking at each other. 

         “Dean Winchester, you are one helluva loser, you know that?” This time it was both of them breaking down into laughter again. It was this moment that Charlie chose to make an appearance again. 

         “Hey, Dean, what time did you say you had to be out of here?” Charlie’s voice sounded from the kitchen along with the sound of car keys on the table. 

         Dean looked at the time. _Fuck._

         “Cas, we gotta go, or Naomi’s gonna have my ass.” Cas looked down at his watched and hurriedly stood. 

         “I’ll go get my things. Meet in the car?” Dean nodded. The moment Cas was out of earshot Charlie turned to him. 

         “Dean Winchester don’t you move.” _Uh-oh_. 

         “Yeah, Charlie?” Dean’s tongue flicked out to lick his lips. 

“You obviously have a thing for him.”

         “Why does everyone keep saying that?” 

         “Because you aren’t the most subtle bull in the china shop.” _Ouch, okay._

         “He’s probably straight, you know.” Charlie doubled-over laughing. 

         “You, poor, dumb, bastard. He’s gayer than me…and I’m pretty gay.” Dean blanched. Charlie’s gay-dar was always right. Dean had tried not to think about          that possibility. “Look, Dean. There’s no reason that this can’t be the start of something really good for you. You just need to put yourself out there.” Dean nodded. 

         “Yeah, but you and I both know that he’s too good for me.” Charlie shook her head, rolling her eyes. 

         “Dean, you’re being ridiculous. You’re awesome.” Dean smiled, soft and shy. 

         “I love you.”

         “I know.” 

         Dean grabbed his keys and hurried back, the chat with Charlie was putting them dangerously close to being late. He was a few steps from the car when his stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since the spaghetti, and Cas was probably hungry, too. 

         “Cas, how badly would Naomi kill me if we were a little bit late?” Cas looked at him, skeptically. 

         “Well, she’d probably be fine with say, five minutes because she’d be dealing with the other kids, not really paying too much attention to one missing person.” Dean took that as a personal challenge. 

         “In that case, I’m one starving son of a bitch, how does some food sound?” Cas nodded enthusiastically, and Dean grinned. Dean pulled into the Wendy’s drive-thru ordering a cheeseburger and chocolate frosty for himself and fries and a frosty for Cas. Dean stole a fry from Cas before handing him the bag. He swiped it into the frosty without a second thought. He turned to Cas, but stopped short at the confused expression on his face. 

         “In God’s name, Dean, _why_ would you do that?” Dean couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from him. 

         “Don’t knock it till you try it, Cas” Cas shook his head. 

         “I am not going to desecrate something as beautiful as fries by putting milkshake on them!” Dean took note of his new mission. Quick as a cat, he snatched another fry. He dipped it into his frosty before holding it in front of Cas’ mouth. Cas turned his head away, but Dean was unwavering in his resolve. 

         “I’m not taking you back until you try it.” Cas only smirked. 

         “That’s fine with me. Naomi’s a bitch anyway.” Dean’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter, but he didn’t move the fry. He tapped Cas’ lips with it.                      “        "Assaulting me with it, isn’t going to work.” Cas said, comically stubborn. 

         “Please?” He drew out the word like a small child would. Something in Cas’ eyes and his resolve dropped. Cas took a bite, and Dean took note of how he was _feeding_ Cas. Dean subsequently tried very hard to not think about what had just happened. 

         “…okay, that’s good. You win.” Cas said quietly. Dean pumped his fist. 

         “I should have put money on it.” Dean and Cas talked all the way back to the Holiday Inn that the students were staying at. He wasn’t surprised that it was only a block from the school. As predicted they were late, it was already eleven ten. Cas hurried out of the car and Dean followed, ready to take the blame if Naomi decided she was going to give Cas shit about it. Naomi was sitting in the lobby, holding a checklist similar to the one she had been holding when they first met. _Was that really only this morning?_ Dean felt like it had been ages since they first met, his feelings surely agreed. Naomi looked up and checked Cas’ name off a list. Dean wasn’t allowed further than the lobby, and he wasn’t about to just let Cas leave without saying goodnight.

         “So,” Dean said, looking at the ground. This felt way too much like saying goodnight after a date. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.” Cas nodded, looking over his shoulder as he walked toward the room. 

         “Bright and early.” He waved before turning around to leave, only to be stopped by Naomi’s hand on his shoulder. Were people ever going to stop talking to him after Cas left the room? Dean didn’t think so.

         “You were late.” Dean turned to face Naomi-bitch-woman. 

         “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. We stopped to get some food. It was my idea, don’t blame Cas…tiel.” Dean didn’t want Naomi to know he’d given Cas a nickname already. Lest another discussion about _feelings_ ensue. 

         “Make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’d hate to have to find another student for Castiel to shadow because of an _honor code violation_.” 

         “Look, Miss. If you have something to say to me, just say it.”

         “Mr. Winchester. I hardly find it prudent for you and _Castiel_ to be frolicking around the city late at night, we take the _honor code_ very seriously here at Saint Hester’s. I would hate for you to break it.” Naomi didn’t wait for a response, leaving Dean with nothing but the click-clack of her heels on the tile. Dean would have to ask Castiel about the honor code tomorrow. Naomi’s message was clear though, _Dean needed to stop feeling all of those_ feelings _he was having for Cas_. 

         Keys in hand, Dean left the hotel, wondering what he was going to do. He couldn’t stop Cas from being the most amazing person on the face of planet earth, but there was something. 

         Dean got out of the car, having stopped on a street a couple miles from his house. He punched the number into his phone and waited as it rang. 

         “What.” The female voice greeted him, cold but Dean could sense the hope there. 

         “Lisa, I just wanted to tell you that I am so sorry for what I said. I would really love to see you tonight if you would have me.” The line went completely silent. 

         “Dean…you know I still care about you, but I can’t keep throwing you chance after chance,” Dean knew he had her in the bag. This was the _one more time_ speech that Dean had come to know so well. “But there’s something about you that I just can’t shake. But God help you, Dean Winchester, this is your last chance.” 

         “Thank you Lisa, can I swing by in five minutes?” Lisa hummed a yes through the phone and Dean climbed back in his car. Dean felt _wrong._ He didn’t want to go back to Lisa’s. For the first day in so many, Cas had taken his attention off of Lisa. Lisa wanted Dean when it was convenient for her, but Cas…he found out he played Moondor and saw him bicker with his little brother, and he hadn’t told him it was silly, hadn’t told him to _grow up._

         But Dean still went to see Lisa. He still kissed her and took her clothes off, he sucked little hickeys into her collar bones, but he felt nothing. Even as Lisa whispered how much she had missed him in to his ear, he didn’t get the chills. And when he went home, he sat on the front steps, wondering what had changed. Hadn’t he really liked Lisa? Enough to come back to her every time? The thing was that Lisa made him feel good enough,

         But Cas made him feel _good_. 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would have seemed simple. But Dean couldn’t breathe. Something inside hurt so bad that Dean thought he might pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thank you all for your support! You're amaaaazinggg :)

         Dean woke up, for no explicable reason, at 4:39 AM, and with two hours until he had to get ready, and no sleep in sight, Dean Winchester began to think. He began to think about Castiel Novak, he wondered how it was possible that in only twenty-four hours the boy had moved to the front of his mind, taking up a permanent residence. He wondered why he had felt _guilty_ when going to Lisa’s. He owed Castiel nothing, but every kiss he gave to Lisa felt achingly like betrayal. Dean remembered the pang of _longing_ that has struck him in the chest when Lisa opened the door, but the longing he felt wasn’t for her. Dean Winchester had never considered himself to be an affectionate person, God knows that Dean didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone. Let alone this—this _angel_ that had walked into his life. So much of Dean had been wholly consumed by Cas, that it scared him. As he lay alone in his room, Dean Winchester found himself to be afraid. 

         Dean meandered through the house, walking quietly past Sammy’s room, and stopping to at the kitchen table, finding his backpack right where he’d thrown it. It took him a moment to rifle through his papers before he found the questionnaire. It was technically day two, and Dean had nothing better to do than answer the question of the day. _Day Two: Has your impression of me changed since the first day?_ Dean would have shouted the word _yes_ had Sam not been asleep. Dean began writing about all the things that had changed. He had been so wrong about Cas, and even spending one day together proved it. Dean figured that he didn’t really care anymore that he would be sharing his life with Cas, because Castiel was damn near perfect, and Dean could only hope some would rub off on him. 

         By the time he finished writing, he realized that Cas could never read his answers. Dean would positively die. He had been all teen-romance-movie-sappy and he hadn’t realized that the words he wrote sounded a lot like an introduction to a love letter. Time was still passing slowly, and though Dean would never admit it, he was counting down the hours until he could see Cas again. Dean walked into the living room and reached under the couch, blindly sweeping his hand around until it was met with leather. He scooped the journal from its hiding place, and opened it. It had been nearly a week since the last entry, and Dean felt like it was due for another. 

         November 3, 2017

                  Castiel Novak is the source of all of my problems. If he hadn’t walked into my life, I figure that everything would be fine. I could be back with Lisa, and focused on something other than those freakin blue eyes that I can’t seem to forget about. I realize I sound like a twelve year old girl, but something about Cas really is just so different. I’ve never really met anyone who I have felt this comfortable around before. He is quiet and attentive and doesn’t seem to mind that I play Moondor or pick stupid fights with my brother. I mean, the kid helped me cheat instead of nag about my academic failure. What part of that doesn’t scream man-of-my-dreams? The only problem with this, is that Castiel Novak is entirely to good for me. I’m sure everyone recognizes it. Charlie says otherwise, but as my best friend that’s kind of her job. Anyway, I think I just fucked up by talking to Lisa. And though I hate to sound like someone out of a soap-opera…Cas has…monopolized my mindspace, and doesn’t seem to intent on giving it back. 

         Dean wanted to burn the damn journal after putting his scattered thoughts in to words. It sounded like he had a _crush_ on Castiel. And Dean certainly did _not_ have a _crush_ on _Castiel._ Dean  busied himself with making breakfast, a plate of eggs and some bacon, just enough for Sammy as well. 

         Dean went through the motions of getting ready, catching himself when he put a little more thought into what he was wearing than usual. _I think about what I wear all the time. This is nothing new._

         Sam woke up at six, stomping around like an elephant. Dean was spending some time organizing the mess of paper in his bag, throwing things into the trash or stuffing them into a folder. Sam came downstairs, and his eyes lit up like stars when he saw that breakfast had been made prior to ten minutes before they had to leave. 

         “Dean, what are you doing with all those papers?” Sam said around a mouthful of eggs. 

         “I’m just throwing some of the old shit away.” Dean didn’t notice Sam’s sneaky hands as he began sorting through the papers in the “keep” folder.  

         “Dean Winchester!” Dean’s eyes immediately shot up at Sam. Dean felt all of the blood drain from his face as he realized what Sam was holding. It was the questionnaire. He had probably just read the freaking _diary entry_ he had written in response to the second question. Dean snatched the packet from Sam and stowed it in his backpack once more. 

         “ ’S nothing Sammy, eat your breakfast.” Dean said, Sam smirked in response. 

         “Dean, it’s okay if you like him.” Dean looked up at him with narrow eyes. 

         “Shuddup Sam. None of your business.” Sam laughed at Dean’s response, packing the homework from the night before into his book bag. 

         “Dean? Do you think Castiel can come over again tonight?” _I am putting Nair in his shampoo._ Dean only raised an eyebrow. If this was Sam’s shitty way of trying to get them in the sam room together, Dean was not having it. “It’s not what you think. He was actually really helpful with my homework. I couldn’t care less about you _love life._ But I do care about passing Life Science.” _Fucking shit. Sam wants Cas around._ To Dean, it seemed like every time he had managed to keep Cas from completely taking over his life, Castiel Novak would take something else of Dean as his own. And the worst part was, that Cas had no idea he was doing it. 

         “Yeah, Sammy. I’ll bring him back. I’m glad that you two get along so well.” Dean told himself that he wasn’t hoping against hope for anything. Hoping for things just set you up to be let down, and Dean had been let down enough in his life as it was. 

         He dropped Sam off at school and promised again to bring Cas over tonight. Dean headed to the guidance center, incredibly ready to see Cas. Dean definitely was not bouncing on the balls of his feet when the Saint Hester’s kids came in the doors. He spotted Cas right away, hesitating before taking a step forward.

         “Hello, Dean.” The voice like velvet over gravel met his ears, and he thought he might melt into a puddle. 

         “Hiya, Cas. How was your night?” _How was your night?! What am I fifty-fucking-five?!_ Dean schooled his expression as much as he could. 

         “Thanks for asking, the beds are nice, I share a room with Garth.” A bolt of white hot jealousy went streaking down to Dean’s stomach. 

         “That’s…nice. Okay, today I have Language Arts first,  then we have a whole period to do whatever we want, then I’ve got math, then lunch, then World Civilizations. Let’s get to Language Arts before Ms. Harvelle has my ass, though.” Dean said, only half-kidding. Cas chuckled and followed him down the hallway. 

         About halfway to the class, he felt fingers interlock with his. Dean’s breath caught in his throat and his heartbeat ratcheted up to lightning speed, at the notion that it was Cas. But these hands were soft, and Cas was standing on his right… _Oh Fuck._ A soft mouth pressed a kiss on Dean’s jawline, and he tried hard not to shy away from it. 

         “Morning, Dean. Who’s the friend?” _No, no, no. Not now Lisa, for the love of God._

         “Lisa, this is Castiel,” He turned to face Cas, who’s face was full of emotions that Dean couldn’t trace down to just one thing, but in this moment, Dean knew, he fucked up, “Cas, this is Lisa.” He left off the usual “my girlfriend” at the end, and noticed when Lisa’s grip tightened around his fingers. 

         “Dean’s girlfriend.” Lisa chimed in. Cas’ expression had turned back to neutral, and something in Dean wanted to pull him into a hug, to hide Cas from all the horrible things that Dean Winchester was. 

         “It’s nice to meet you, Lisa.” Dean wanted the ground to swallow him up. Of course, something had gone wrong on day fucking two. It was then that Dean was grateful that Cas was stuck with him, there may still be a chance to fix this. 

         By the time they made it to the classroom, Cas had gone radio-silent. The chatter they had shared before Lisa had taken Dean’s hand had ceased, and Dean felt out of place in the quiet. Dean introduced Cas to the class, taking note when Cas didn’t do so much as move. _Maybe Charlie was right._ Dean thought, not really understanding exactly what that meant, and ignoring how that explained the situation before him. Dean was miserable the whole class. Every touch that Lisa placed on him felt _wrong_ especially when Cas seemed to be in such a bad mood. 

         “So Cas, what would you like to do for our free hour?” Dean asked once the bell rang. Cas shrugged noncommittally. “Is there anything you want to do?” 

         “Whatever you think is best.” The words were so clipped that Dean felt the edge to them. 

         “Well we have an hour and a half, we can leave campus, we can go eat, we can do anything really.” Dean put as much positivity into the words as he could muster. Cas didn’t respond. “Cas, dude, is everything okay?” Cas looked up at him. 

         “Yes, Dean, everything is fine.” Dean genuinely didn’t understand. He understood why Cas was quiet around Lisa—it’s hard third wheeling a couple. 

         “I-is it something with your mom?” 

         “No, Dean. Everything is fine. I think I would like to go visit some of the other exchange students. Find out what Naomi has planned for today.” _Ouch._ That one hurt. Cas would rather spend time with the Saint Hester’s kids than him. 

         Obliging Cas, he took them back to room 121-B. Only five or so pairs of students were there, the rest either in class or off somewhere else. Dean noticed Meg and Alistair playing cards in the corner, hoping Meg didn’t give Cas any trouble. 

         “Cas, I’m going to run to the bathroom. Don’t cause too much trouble.” He added a smile to the last part, Cas’ face remained stoic. _What the actual fuck is up with him?_ Brooding Cas was so much different from the Cas he had met yesterday, they were almost two different people. Whatever was happening, Dean didn’t like it. _Do Cas and Lisa know each other?_ The notion seemed ridiculous, but Dean was running out of things to blame it on. Dean stopped just short of the bathroom door, and pulled out his phone to text Charlie. 

**Charlie, I need your help.**

**What’s going on, Dean?**

**Something is up with Cas. He’s been off all day, and I don’t know what to do.**

**Do you know why?**

**Nope.**

**When did it start?**

**In the hallway after we met up again for the day.**

**Anything else?**

**Well. Lisa was there, and we got back together last night. Do you think they know each other?**

**Dean. You are the dumbest ass I’ve ever met.**

**What?**

**Dean, I implore you to use your brain for a couple seconds. I have to go. It’s pretty obvious. Just think about it.**

         Dean turned his phone off, and went into the bathroom. When he made it back to the classroom, he still didn’t really get it. Whatever it was, Charlie had made it perfectly clear that Dean was an outright idiot for not catching on sooner. Dean waved to a couple friends on the way back to room 121-B, wanting to give Cas a little time to cool off it it was something Dean had done to make him so upset. _Did Naomi give Cas hell for being late?_ That sounded like the most reasonable explanation and Dean felt like shit for doing that to Cas. He vowed that they would be five minutes early tonight to make up for it. 

         When Dean entered the B-wing he had a new resolve to fix it. He would apologize to Cas, and promise they would never be late again. He came up to the room, and looked around for Cas. He wished he hadn’t. Dean swore that nothing compared to the stomach sinking feeling as he found Cas’ almost black hair in the corner of the room. There was a hand twisted in it, that wasn’t Cas’. Dean’s eyes followed the hand to the rest of the body and none other than the face of Meg Masters, kissing Cas. Dean felt like he wanted to punch a wall and throw up all at the same time. _It’s Cas’ choice. Charlie was wrong. It was stupid to get my hopes up anyway_. 

         It would have seemed simple. But Dean couldn’t _breathe_. Something inside hurt so bad that Dean thought he might pass out. He was unable to tear his eyes away as the kiss broke, still watching as Cas’ head turned towards the door. The blue eyes came crashing down on his, and Dean walked away. 

         And so it was made evidently clear to Dean Winchester, that he did not deserve good things, and all of his fears had been justified.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the words that Cas had so carefully not spoken echoed around in the empty space between them. Unsaid and misunderstood. Dean was dumbstruck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This burn will be slow indeed, my friends. Anyway I was thinking the next thing i write (sometime in the distant future will be a soulmate AU...idk I've always wanted to try it)

         Dean had torn from that hallway like a bat out of hell, taking rights and lefts until the B-wing was far away. _Castiel Novak can get fucked_. Too may thoughts were racing around Dean’s head—too many emotions. Confusion, anger, jealousy, and wrath were destroying Dean’s mind, but the most prominent was the potent _devastation_. Dean slid his back down a wall outside of the weight room. No one was in this part of the school this time of day. _God damn it._ Dean knocked his head against the wall. _How did this happen?_ Castiel Novak meant nothing to Dean. That’s what he kept repeating to himself, but every time the not-so-helpful voice in the back of his head chanted _you’re lying_. Dean took steady breaths, thinking about what Charlie had said. Charlie had obviously thought that _maybe_ Cas had felt something for Dean, a shard of reciprocity for the torrents of emotion that raged through him. _Why was Cas kissing her?_ Dean tried to answer the question but drew blank after blank. _It should have been me._ I _should have been the first one to kiss Cas._ The thought hit him like a truck, dumping the weight of itself all over Dean. These _feelings…_ they were hurting Dean. They spat the words that John had all those years ago. _You would have a chance with Cas if you weren’t so goddamn_ worthless, _Dean. Maybe he would like you if you had…you know…_ anything _to offer._ Dean’s throat was tight, choking on the words that weren’t yet spoken. 

~

         Cas watched as Dean left the room. He hated himself for feeling so bitter. Of course Dean had the right to date whomever he wanted, but Castiel couldn’t help but feel intimidated by Lisa’s presence. Cas knew for a very long time that girls just…weren’t for him. No one knew, because Catholic school was not the time or place for a confession of homosexuality. It didn’t stop the wicked rumors from spreading, and it didn’t stop the kids from beating him up behind the school for the way he was born. That’s why when given the opportunity to leave Saint Hester’s—even just for two weeks, he jumped at it. Everything had seemed perfectly fine, until he met Dean Winchester. Until the piercing green eyes had invaded his life, and Castiel found himself falling for the man he’d barely met. 

         The choice had been too easy for Cas to make. He needed to prove to Dean that he was okay-and-not-okay with Lisa. It was best that Dean didn’t know about Cas, but Castiel’s morbid curiosity drove him to his actions. At last, Castiel would know what exactly was up with Dean Winchester. 

         “Hey, Meg.” Cas gritted the words out, struggling not to turn tail and run. 

         “Hey, there, Clarence. You look lovely today.” Cas tried his best to look shy at the compliment, but he ended up looking constipated. Meg wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, her hands were cold and clammy. 

         “You as well.” Meg dragged her teeth over her bottom lip. _What am I doing?_

         “When you talk like that, Clarence, makes me all dewy.” _Ok what the fucking fuck. Who says shit like that?_ Castiel put on his best fake smile and leaned closer. Feeling any sort of connection with someone, even someone like Meg, was better than the soul crushing feeling of being forever alone when Lisa had popped up in the hallway. Meg closed the distance between them, opening the kiss almost immediately. Castiel didn’t really know what he was doing, seeing as this was his _first time_ and he had just tossed it to Meg. Meg’s hand moved to twist in Castiel’s hair. If he didn’t focus too hard on what was happening, it was easy enough to imagine that it was Dean’s. 

         The sound of the door opening was a death sentence. Castiel broke the kiss to look at who had arrived. Green. Green eyes full of pain collapsed under Castiel’s gaze. Dean didn’t make a sound as he turned and left, walking quickly away. Something inside Castiel stung so acutely that he braced a hand against the wall, taking some time to breathe. 

         Castiel left the room shortly after. _What have I done?_ Dean Winchester was nowhere to be found. He searched every avenue of the school that Dean had shown him earlier, but no one was there. Sometime after leaving, Castiel found himself lost, navigating in grand circles. He stumbled down a hallway, empty save for a single door at the end, and against it, sat Dean Winchester. 

~

         Dean looked up. Castiel had found him. He stood up quickly, knocking an amused expression into place. 

         “Thought I’d give you two a little privacy.” Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Cas shook his head as he walked forward. Suspense brewed inside of Dean. 

         “I—” Castiel began.

         “You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s about time we got that show on the road anyway.” Dean’s smile was fake as he said the words, but he smiled nonetheless. 

         “No, Dean I really should. I owe you that much.” 

         “You don’t owe me anything Castiel. You came here to have a good time, and a good time you shall have. I just didn’t really expect a first-timer to go for Meg Masters.” Dean let out a low whistle and began walking back toward the front of the school. Cas reached for Dean’s arm, and held on. 

         “ _Dean._ ” The boy finally stopped, turning to face Cas. 

         “You really don’t have to explain yourself. I get it…who wouldn’t want—”

         “Dean. My whole life I’ve never really had someone care for me. Not my mother or absentee father, I’ve never had…anyone else, either. And if having a physical connection made me think…that…that someone _did_ care for me…even just for a moment…” All the words rushed from Cas in a single fluid expression. All the words that Cas had so carefully not spoken echoed around in the empty space between them. Unsaid and misunderstood. Dean was dumbstruck. _I could care for you_. Was the first thought that popped into his mind, rather unsurprisingly to Dean. He stamped his foot down on it, holding it firmly. 

         Cas, people care about you. Even the ones you are least likely to expect.” Cas shook his head and hugged himself tightly. “Cas, trust me. When you do amazing things, because I know you will, you’ll see it. The people you are bound to help, they care. And I—I care. And Sammy cares. And every goddamn person on this shithole of a planet cares.” Dean spoke the words fiercely. He believed every last one of them. 

         “Dean—”

         “Don’t mention it.” Dean quipped, unwilling to take the emotional toll of Cas’ gratitude. 

         The day passed rather awkwardly, Dean shutting down every notion of the slowly growing fantasy that _he could care for Cas_. Cas sat quietly, doodling on the margins of Dean’s paper. It dawned on Dean that he had made a promise to Sam that he would bring Cas over again, and he still intended to make good on it, even though all of the thoughts and feelings running around his head told him that on the list of Dean’s Really Fucking Stupid Ideas, this took the cake. 

         They were waiting outside the middle school in steely silence when Cas spoke.

         “I don’t like Meg.” Dean had been absorbed in his thoughts and didn’t quite hear him. 

         “Sorry, what?” Dean said, confused. 

         “I don’t like Meg Masters. Not in the slightest.” Cas looked forward as he said it, hard gaze staring toward the school. 

         “Not very many people do, but may I ask why? I mean after this morning I kind of thought you two had a thing going?” Dean said, hoping against hope that all of his problems would be solved, and he could explain himself to Cas and everything would be okay again. 

         “You could say that she’s just not my type.” Dean chuckled. Cas didn’t have a type, he had zero experience to even define a type. 

         “And what makes you say that?” Dean was smiling into the words, grateful for the sliver of ease that had returned to their conversations. 

         “Meg’s a girl.” A silence that neither had known possible to achieve fell over the car. In the silence, breaths sounded like jet engines, and movements exploded around them like fireworks. Dean coughed in an attempt to break the vigil, but Cas had gone still. 

         “So you’re saying…you like…boys?” Cas looked to him slowly, Dean’s heart hammered. 

         “No, really I’d say I’m into kangaroos. They’re more my thing.” A heartbeat of charged silence was followed by bursting laughter as they both appreciated the joke. Dean’s heart was doing some sort of Irish jig around in his chest. He’d have to call Charlie and tell her he owed her dinner and a movie. “Wait. You don’t really seem all that shaken by this?” Dean laughed some more. 

         “Cas, did you really think that I was straight? I’m flattered you think I’m such a cunning actor.” Cas’ brows knit together. 

         “But Lisa…” A lightbulb went off somewhere in Cas’ mind, “Oh, I get it. You like both.” Dean nodded. This time, the silence was comfortable. _Holy shit, Cas is gay._ Dean stared at the roof of the impala, contemplating everything that had just gone down. 

         “Cas, why go for Meg then?” Cas turned to him, expression searching. 

         “I…acknowledge that Meg was not the best choice, but Meg was the most available choice. God, that sounds terrible.” Dean’s laugh rumbled through the space between them. 

         “No, I get it. Plus, the thing with Lisa…I think that’s over.”

         “Over?” Cas asked, “Why?” 

         “We’ve been so on and off over the past year that it’s stressing me out. She’ll probably break up with me tomorrow anyway.” Cas hummed in understanding, “You know Cas?”

         “Yes, Dean?”

         “I think you and I could be great friends.” Dean’s mind silently added the word _boy_ before _friend,_ but so long as the words remained silent, they could do no harm. Cas beamed up at him, and Dean wanted to kiss the glorious thing. 

         “I would like that Dean. I would really like that.” 

         They chatted for awhile before the school bell rang and Sammy strutted out. This time, however there was a pretty blonde girl walking next to him, who pressed up on her tip-toes to give Sam a hug. Dean’s chest did a weird twist. Part of Dean was saying that Sam was too young for this, and the other part said things that vaguely sounded like _get it Sammy_. 

         “Dean did you bring Cas—” Sam stopped speaking when he spotted Cas in the passenger seat. “Hi, Cas!” Cas let out a light laugh. 

         “How was you day, Sam?” Cas said, and Dean turned around, a smirk on his face. 

         “Yeah, Sam. Anything you want to tell us?” Dean countered. _Did I just refer to Cas and I as ‘us’?_ A blush crept up Sam’s cheeks. 

         “That’s Jess…Jessica Moore. We have Social Studies and Math together.” Sam’s voice was small, so at odds with his giant body. 

         “Is she as smart as you?” Dean replied. 

         “Are you kidding Dean?” Sam paused for a heartbeat, “She’s _way_ smarter than me.” Dean’s heart warmed. Today had started abysmally and Dean thought it would end that way, but he had been pleasantly surprised with the warmth that greeted him now. 

         Once they arrived back at Dean’s house, Sam called Cas to the couch, this time commissioning him with Algebra homework. He listened patiently as Cas explained substitution to an eager Sam. Dean cooked burgers that night for all of them to eat, before they all decided to play scrabble. Unsurprisingly, Cas beat the shit out of them both, with words like _query_ and _urgent_. It would not be a lie to say that Dean was mesmerized. Sam left shortly after the game when he got a phone call and his face turned bright red. Dean was willing to bet it was Jess calling. 

         “Cas, what’s your favorite movie?” Dean asked while cleaning up the board game.

         “Dean, I don’t think you want to know.” Dean recognized the conversation. 

         “What movie could be so terrible that you don’t want to tell me?” 

         “Well, _I_ don’t think it’s terrible, but Dean Winchester, Clint Eastwood enthusiast just might” Cas was laughing through his words. 

         “Try me, Cas, I’ve had my fair share of watching done in my seventeen years of life.” Dean was starting to forget how the conversation had gone after that, and he was glad when the dialogue changed.

         “Dean, I like silent films. Old ones, from the thirties and forties. My favorite is _Safety Last_. It’s pretty funny.” Cas finished, looking rather sheepish. 

         “Dude, have you even _seen Untouchables_?” Dean asked, and Cas shook his head. “We’re fixing that. _Now_. We’ve got just enough time before Naomi is going to take you back, so let’s get going.” Cas knew better than to argue. Dean returned with the DVD and some popcorn, sitting down right next to Cas. 

         As the movie played, he pointed out his favorite parts to Cas, who seemed to be enjoying the film. However, the day was wearing on Dean, and he’d hardly gotten any sleep the night before between his Lisa visit and waking up so goddamn early. He tried to fight sleep as his eyelids began to droop, but found it impossible. Dean only vaguely registered his head dropping into the hollow between Cas’ shoulder and neck. 

         Cas didn’t move as Dean slept, listening to the rhythm of Dean’s breathing as _Untouchables_ continued playing. Cas didn’t find it nearly as enjoyable to watch without Dean’s commentary. In that moment, Cas felt perfect. He was away from the Saint Hester’s kids who had tormented him for days on end, and he was with Dean, his new friend. Castiel checked the time, it was already ten thirty. He should wake Dean up, but he couldn’t bring himself to. When Dean was asleep, he looked so peaceful, and the weight on Castiel’s shoulder was welcome. Naomi would kill him if he was late again, but as of now he didn’t really give a shit what Naomi thought. Dean stirred on his shoulder, and Cas went still, but couldn’t stop Dean from waking up. 

         “ _Shit!_ Cas I’m so sorry. What time is it?” Thoughts raged and raged through Dean’s groggy head. _You fell asleep on Cas you colossal idiot._ Was the one he heard loudest. 

         “It’s nearly ten forty.” Cas spoke back to him. 

         “We should go, I don’t want Naomi back on my ass, or yours for that matter.” 

         They hauled ass to the impala, Cas told Dean he liked the film, even though what he really liked was Dean talking _about_ the film. 

         “Dean, I wanted to thank you.” Dean turned to face Cas, a confused expression settling on his face. 

         “What for?” Dean asked as he turned his gaze back to the road. 

         “For…being my friend, and accepting who I am…not many people do.”

         “Yeah, well they're stupid. Not to mention missing out.” Dean’s voice was hard with certainty. 

         “Not really that much to miss out on.” Cas said. The words were self-deprecating and Dean wouldn’t stand for it. 

         “The way I see it, I wouldn’t miss out on you for the world.” 

 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Cas was the reason that Dean’s world had come crashing down around him, effectively ruining his life in the best way possible. Dean wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back...back again. Idk why I said that. Anywayyy I hope you all like this chapter. And if I haven't told you guys yet...You guys are so amazing. Your comments make me freaking die. So much love.

         Dean was ridiculously happy that he had stunned Cas into silence. The happiness lasted for only a second, as Cas bowed his head, focusing hard on the waist-strap of his seatbelt. 

         “Cas? Are you okay?” Dean asked, tones of worry creeping in every orifice of the sentence. 

         “Dean…you don’t really understand what you’ve just said to me—what it means to me.” Cas looked out the window as he spoke, his throat suddenly tight. 

         “Then enlighten me Cas. Tell me what it means to you.” And god damn him if Dean didn’t want to know so badly that it almost hurt. 

         “Dean, no one knows I’m gay. No one but you. Not my brothers, friends, parents. If they knew they’d throw me out on my ass at their earliest convenience. I always had to be the best, it was the only thing that earned me any sort of acknowledgment from my family…and even then, it didn’t help Michael from calling me a worthless piece of shit whenever my mom came home high out of her mind. ‘It’s because of you, Castiel. She’s this way because of you’ do you know how many times I heard that? I get that Michael needed someone to blame, he needed something to blame it on as much as the rest of our dysfunctional family. But…but you can only hear things so many times before you start to believe them.” _Damn._ That resonated with Dean. Dean felt the onset of tears, but real men didn’t cry. It would be easier to spill blood than tears, that’s always what John had told him. “A-and when you _didn’t_ judge me. You didn’t expect anything from me, you tell me that you like my eyes and that you think I’m amazing, and…I’ve never heard it. Not once. So forgive me for reacting the way I do. And _thank you_ , Dean. Thank you so much.” 

         “Get out of the car.” Dean’s body was speaking without thinking, moving without purpose. Cas looked confused, border lining on hurt. Dean got out himself so that Cas hopefully didn’t think that Dean was ditching his ass. Dean waited as Cas opened the door, walking around the impala to meet him in front of it. 

         “Dean, what—” Dean did’t care what Cas was going to say. Not in the slightest. Dean had already pushed forward, wrapping Castiel in his arms. He slung one around the small of Cas’ back, circling him to grip his side. The other hand held Cas’ head firmly, while Dean buried his face in the gap between Cas’ neck and shoulder. Cas made a little noise, a strange cross between a sigh or a whimper. 

         Perhaps it had been hours, it seemed more likely that it had been days, and certainly years that they embraced each other on the street. Dean wordlessly held Cas, only gripping him tighter when he felt the wetness of tears on his skin. Dean would hold Cas as long as he needed it. Dean would hold Cas until the sun died and humanity was a whisper of darkness between stars. Dean would hold Cas until Cas felt _needed_. 

         In the end, it was Cas who pulled away, eyes puffy and red, but still gorgeous and blue.   
         “God, Cas.” Dean whispered, an emotion that was heavy and light all at once flooded through him. He couldn’t name it, the familiarity was there, but he hadn’t known it nearly enough to identify it accurately. Cas brought up his hand to brush over Dean’s cheek, fingers ghosting down Dean’s jawline as Cas lowered his hand back to his side. 

         “Why are you doing this?” Cas asked, eyes nearly glowing in the moonlight. Dean’s expression softened as he saw the apprehension in Cas’ expression. 

         “Because…” Dean had the answers, he wanted to shout them from every rooftop in the shit town of Lawrence, but he couldn’t close the distance between himself and Cas, Dean couldn’t tell him, “Because, someone like you deserves everything. Every seashell on the California coast, every star in the sky, every tulip in the Netherlands, and all of the love and support in the world, and it’s a damn shame that no one’s given it to you yet.” _Just tell him how you feel. What’s the worst that could happen?_ But somewhere in Dean’s mind the voice of John Winchester told him to shut up and drive the boy back to the hotel. 

         “You’re too good for me, Dean Winchester.” And there it was. The sentence that made and unmade Dean in the blink of an eye. Dean was not anywhere close to good enough for this angel who walked the earth, but Cas thought he was. Cas thought he was _worth something_. Castiel didn’t know that in Dean’s whole life, those were the words he wanted to hear the most. Dean just wanted someone to say that he was worth something, and Cas had done just that. 

         “Cas, I—appreciate that. Now let’s get in the car before bitch queen Naomi has something to say about it.” _Tell him_. _Just do it._ And accompanying image of Shia LaBeouf greeted him, making Dean smile. He would tell Cas. He didn’t know how, or when for that matter. But Dean knew that when you found something this good, you didn’t just let it go. 

         They waltzed into the lobby at exactly ten fifty-nine and Dean would have framed Naomi’s face if he could have. He bid Cas goodbye, taking tim to brush his hand down his arm. Dean wanted to kiss Castiel right in front of Naomi, maybe one of these days he would. _Woah, slow down._ Dean wanted to tell the voice to fuck the fuck off. Dean had the overwhelming feeling that he had found _it._ He didn’t really know what “it” was yet. 

         People like Cas didn’t just walk into your life for no reason. People like Cas were the reason you got up in the morning. People like Cas were the reason Dean had held on this long, because deep down Dean had always hoped that there were better people than John in the world. And Cas was the reason that Dean’s world had come crashing down around him, effectively ruining his life in the best way possible. Dean wouldn’t have it any other way. 

         That night Dean drove to Charlie’s. 

         “What’s up bitches?” Charlie greeted him, which Dean didn’t understand because no one else was with him, so shouldn’t it have been ‘What’s up _bitch_?’ Dean pushed the silly thoughts away and began talking. 

         “It’s Cas.” Dean said, and Charlie rolled her eyes. 

         “Well, duh, even a shadow-orc could figure that much out.” Dean laughed at her impotence and settled on her couch. Sam had called on the way over, saying he was going to sleep over at a friend name Mick’s house. Dean had given the okay and that was that. 

         "Charlie…it’s been two days and…” he trailed off, hoping Charlie got the gist. 

         “Okay, how bad is it?” Charlie asked, biting her lip. Dean looked up at her sheepishly. “Oh god. That bad?” Dean nodded. The last time he’d reacted like that to something Charlie asked it had been years ago, when Dean had first told her that he was bi. 

         “Charlie, he’s…perfect.” Charlie’s eyes grew big and she leaned her head against Dean’s shoulder. 

         “Dean, let me tell you something. When you walked in here with him, I could tell that you liked him well enough, but when you sat down and really got into conversation, Dean you were as good as gone,” Charlie laughed a little bit, recalling how comfortable they’d been together, “You look at him like he’s Han Solo.” 

         “Wait, are you comparing me to Princess Leia?” Dean was honored. 

         “Yes, I am.” 

         “So what are you saying?” Dean asked, still not really seeing Charlie’s point. 

         “Dean, it’s about time you stop chaining yourself to what John used to say. You are so much more of a man than he’ll ever be. You are your own person. His ideology isn’t yours.”

         “Charlie, it’s not that easy. He’s my father, the guy would hate me if he knew. And then he’d come home in a drunken tirade and trash the place to shit, probably say some real awful stuff to Sam, and we’d end up fighting like always.” Charlie huffed out a sigh. 

         “I know…just…don’t miss out on something that could be amazing for you because of your douchealicious father, okay?” Dean nodded, Charlie was right, like usual. And for the first time, Dean actually _wanted_ to agree with her, so why was it so hard? 

         Dean left after they had some coffee, parting with some more words about Dean going for it. Dean checked his phone, he had a text from Sam, letting Dean know that Mick’s mom would drive him to school in the morning. 

         Once he was home, he took out his journal, ready to write about everything he was feeling. Quantifying made things easier to understand for Dean. 

                  November 4, 2017

                           It’s way too fucking late for me to be awake, but some things can’t wait until morning. This being one of them. Castiel has destroyed my life, slashing it to ribbons, and I don’t even care. His perfect blue eyes and gardener’s hands have rebuilt it in a way I didn’t know was possible for such a short time. If I had to describe Castiel in one word, it would be lovely. Because everything he does is lovely. Charlie is trying to talk me in to balling up enough to tell Cas…everything. What Charlie doesn’t know, is that Cas mean so much to me, enough that I would never want to risk screwing it up, and confessions of feelings usually screw things up pretty royally for people. I don’t know what to do, I just know that I never want to say goodbye to Castiel Novak. 

         Dean slept fitfully that night, weaving in and out of visions of his father, perpetuated by blue eyes telling him that it would be okay. 

         Seeing Cas was like coming home. The things they had shared the night before had woven them together like a tapestry. 

         “Morning, sunshine.” Dean had greeted him, wrapping an arm to hang loosely around Cas’ shoulders as he did so. 

         “Hello, Dean, how was your night?” Cas accepted the weight of Dean’s arm, secretly cherishing every point of contact.

         “I dropped by Charlie’s on the way home, and Sam went over to Mick’s house for a sleepover, so I didn’t do a whole lot. How about you?” Dean asked, tone pleasant and soft. 

         “Well, Garth had been swimming and came back a little bit later, but he just fell asleep while I did my AP Eco project.” Cas was in a stellar mood, and it was making Dean smile. 

         “Tell me about your project.” Dean leaned against the lockers as he said it. A small gathering of kids had showed up outside of the computer lab, waiting for the teacher to show. 

         “Well, the bees are currently battling Colony Collapse Disorder, and since I focus on bees as a part of my independent study, it made sense to me that I should do my semester final project on them. I have been studying under which conditions the colonies will most often collapse, and what’s the most interesting is that the pattern doesn’t seem to be tied to any one thing, which makes me wonder if scientists are too focused on finding out why instead of saving the bees we do have left, which would eventually lead to why CCD is happening. I’m trying to develop a new type of hive that will filter pesticide on it’s own, which is one of the leading causes of bees dying. I’m hoping to have a prototype out before I graduate, but we’ll see.” Cas finished, Dean was staring at him. With a look that was definitely _not_ pure awe. 

         “Did I ever tell you that you’re a freakin’ genius?” Cas laughed. 

         “I believe you’ve mentioned it before.” 

         “Well, I’m glad. Because it’s still true.” At that point, Mr. Henrickson had walked in and a clump of students had followed. Cas smiled as they took their seats at the computers, Dean logging Cas into his account. 

         Dean spent the class working on the end of term project. Dean had decided to have a go at 3D-printing. Turning his project into code for the printer to understand took _forever_ and Dean was only halfway through. He had promised Charlie that he would 3D-pring a figurine of Gandalf for her, and Dean was more than happy to oblige. 

         They went to a little cafe across the street for lunch, grabbing a deli sandwich and eating outside, talking about everything from Cas’ friends to how amazing Cas had done on his AP Tests, to how Dean had gotten involved in fixing up cars. Dean wondered how Cas was so easy to talk to. When Cas asked why Dean had quit playing football, he had joked about getting the concussion and how it was responsible for his inability to excel in anything STEM related. 

         When Dean thought over their conversation on the walk back to Westchester, he found himself absorbed in Cas’ mannerisms. The little things that Cas did that made Dean’s heart go pitter-patter. The tilt of Cas’ head when he didn’t understand something Dean was saying. The way Cas’ eyes crinkled in the corner. The way Cas got all flustered whenever Dean complimented him…Yeah, Cas was pretty damn perfect. 

         And God help him if Dean wasn’t falling flat on his face for him.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted more of Cas until there was nothing left of Cas that did not belong to Dean. He wanted to give Cas everything, including his own measly heart.

         The rest of the day passed easily, slipping from class to class and dissolving in easy conversation. Dean let himself wonder about the days he could spend with Cas, it made him giddy when his mind automatically assumed forever. 

         “Dean, when does Sam get out of school?” Cas asked, while they drove around Lawrence.

         “He gets out at three fifteen, why?” Dean replied. Cas turned to him, brows knit together. 

         “Because I just saw him at the park we passed.” Dean’s car screeched to a halt. Dean pulled what was potentially the most illegal thing he’d ever done in the car as he sped back toward Green Canyon Park. 

         Sure enough, as Dean pulled up to the park he spotted Sam sitting with the blonde-haired Jess on a bench. Dean pulled out his phone taking a picture. _Blackmail. Sweet!_ Dean thought as he snapped picture after picture. A wave of concern washed over him as he realized Sam was ditching class. That was something that Dean did. Dean was the delinquent, Sam was the good student. Dean honked his horn, delighting when it startled Sam. 

         “Hey, Sammy!” Dean called out the window. Cas looked toward him, scandalized. 

         “Dean!” Cas whispered, incredulous. Sam immediately stood up, spoke a few words to Jess and made his way to the car. 

         “I am going to _kill_ you, Dean.” Sam’s voice was low, but it cracked mid-sentence, sending both Cas and Dean into a fit of laughter. 

         “Whatcha doin’ skipping out on school Sammy?” Dean asked, smirk hiding the genuine worry for his brother. “I thought Cas and I taught you better than that, isn’t that right Cas?” Cas put on his best serious face and nodded, feigning disappointment. 

         “For your information, _Dean_ , we came to the park for a field trip,” Sam held up a worksheet about different kinds of leaves and using dichotomous keys, “Jess was my partner for this assignment. Which is why we were sitting together because I _know_ you were going to make a comment about that.” Sam was fuming, but Dean just couldn’t take him seriously.

         “If that’s so Sammy, why do you seem thirty different types of upset that we’re here?”

         “Because it’s _lame_ to have your brother show up. Especially in front of _Jess_!” Dean and Cas laughed. Dean went even so far as to brace a hand on Cas’ thigh. 

         “Whatever you say Sammy, have fun identifying trees.” Dean went to roll up his window when Sam stuck his hand inside. Dean rolled it back down as to not crush Sam’s hands that were _not_ already bigger than Dean’s. 

         “Actually, as repayment for showing up and making such a scene,” Sam paused for dramatic emphasis, “Will you look over my answers and see if they’re correct?” 

         “And by ‘you’, you mean Cas, don’t you?” Dean asked, turning adoring eyes toward the boy beside him. Sam nodded, extending the worksheet inside the vehicle. Cas looked over the half-assed drawings and dichotomous key page, only stopping at the last two. 

         “Almost perfect, Sam,” Cas said, smiling up at him. Dean’s heart thudded, every beat solely for Cas. “The only problem is you mixed up the Sugar Maple and the Western Buckeye, but other than that you and Jess did well.” Sam ducked back into the car to grab the worksheet. 

         “Thanks, Cas! And you’re such a jerk Dean!” Dean laughed, ruffling Sam’s hair. 

         “You’re a little bitch.” Sam chuckled before walking back to the bench and sitting back down next to Jess. He would drive back to the middle school when the kids started to head for the busses, but it appeared that Cas was enjoying the view of the park, so Dean wasn’t going to move the car for anything. 

         “I guess it pays to have an AP Enviro _and_ AP Eco student at your disposal.” Dean was so past caring about the obvious flattery that spilled from his mouth whenever he looked at Cas. Cas’ turned his beautiful gaze back on Dean. The moment was soft and picturesque as the two of them looked at each other. Green met blue and worlds hung between them. 

         “He’s lucky to have you, Dean.” Cas spoke quietly, reverantly. 

         “Cas, I can’t do _half_ the shit you can. I would have been useless with Sugar Maples and Western Buck-whatever’s.” Dean was still smiling, even though the words harkened to the constant curse of _failure_ that seemed to follow Dean wherever he went. 

         “Identifying a couple trees is as easy as memorization, but to raise your little brother like you have, is something truly remarkable, and I won’t let you sit here and think that you’re useless. I can’t do that.” The space between them was closing, and Dean was hyperaware of it. Dean wanted to kiss Cas so badly that it hurt. The want was pulling on something inside of him, pulling him toward Cas. But Dean knew that a single kiss could change so much. What if it drove Cas away, what if Cas left him like everyone else? 

         Dean lifted his hand to cradle Cas’ cheek in his hand, holding in a sigh as he felt Cas relax into the touch. _Cas is so beautiful. So goddam world-endingly beautiful._

         “You’re…” Dean trailed off. There was just too much to say. The difference was that this time…there was an itch under Dean’s skin. He had to say something. Dean was _done_ being quiet, because Cas made Dean want to live out loud. “You’re breathtaking.” Dean found the adjective to fit Cas perfectly. Dean watched, anxious, as Cas’ eyes grew wide, expanding under the weight of Dean’s words. The knot of anxiety grew tighter as Cas moved his hand to cover Dean’s own, Dean fearing it was to draw it away. Instead, Cas let it rest there, the silence warm and promising. Cas leaned closer, only centimeters lay between them.

         “You and your words, Dean Winchester, you and your words.” Dean huffed a short laugh. It was one of the few moments that Dean was actually happy. Looking at Cas, being so close to him—Dean was positively glowing. He wondered what his life had been like seventy two hours earlier, where had Cas and his eyes of pure sapphire been all this time? Surely, not just across main street. Surely, Dean hadn’t missed the angel in their ranks. Castiel Novak, with his devastating looks and awe-inspiring personality had been hiding from Dean for seventeen years. Dean wanted to turn back time, before he’d met Lisa or Amara or any of the other girls who had filled so much of his time. He wanted to go back and make it all Cas, because the years he hadn’t known him felt like a colossal waste of time. 

         “Where have you been, Cas?” the tone of _splendor_ was impossible to miss in Dean’s voice. Cas devoured another centimeter of the already tiny space. 

         “I’m right here, now. It doesn’t matter where I’ve been.” Cas’ voice was soft and gravelly, and it was _doing things_ to Dean. A breathy little noise escaped Dean that he would deny making to anyone who asked. Dean had never been in a situation where things were so obvious yet so vague all at once. The situation was clear yet murky and neither of them wanted to take the first step. Dean’s tongue flicked out to soothe his lips, and he watched with no small amount of satisfaction as Cas’ eyes flew to it and lingered on his lips. _This will be the death of me_. Dean thought, as a shot of reckless abandon flooded his system. The two words that would change Dean’s life sounded like church bells, echoing around his mind. 

_Fuck it._

         Dean closed the increment of space between them. Cas’ lips were pliable as the pressed a kiss to them. It wasn’t hot or heady or brimming with lust. It was a kiss that put into action all of the words that Dean couldn’t say, manifesting the adoration that burned through his veins.

         Cas didn’t startle as Dean kissed him, only sucking in the tiniest gasp before returning the kiss. The noise almost liquefied Dean, sending arcs of electricity over his body. His hand was still cupping Cas’ cheek when he pulled back. 

         “Dean…” The whisper came from Cas’ lips, a myriad of emotions overwhelmed the single word. Dean couldn’t gather his thoughts. That was perhaps the most chaste thing Dean had done since he was thirteen. But it didn’t change that there was a blankness in his mind that could only be described as euphoria, and a humming in his bones that asked for more. He wanted more of Cas until there was nothing left of Cas that did not belong to Dean. He wanted to give Cas everything, including his own measly heart. 

         “Cas, I want to tell you something.” Their foreheads bumped together lightly, settling against each other. “You changed my life the moment you walked in, and regardless of what happens after we walk out of this car, I am so happy it did. So, incredibly, stupidly, happy.” A keening sound escaped from Cas, and Dean smiled. Maybe Cas felt the same. _Maybe_. 

         “You are the sun, and the moon, and all of the stars.” Cas spoke. The words were oddly poetic and Dean found himself pulling Cas into a tight embrace. He held Cas’ head like he had the night before, wishing so badly that he never had to let go. 

~

         Sam had been walking back to the car, having asked the teacher if his brother could bring him home since he had shown up at the park already. Sam remembered the exact instant that the impala came into view and he had stopped cold. Sam remembered the confusion, then the comprehension, then the feeling of _what_ , then the feeling of _finally_. Sam had known since the very first day that Cas was not just another of Dean’s friends. Dean was too polite, too gentle. Lacking in his usually crass manner. 

         As Sam saw Cas and Dean so close together that it was aggravating even to him, he knew that he should _not_ interrupt or risk execution. Sam waited on the same bench he’d been on earlier. _Kiss already!_ Sam wanted to go home. And Sam couldn’t go home unless his brother balled up enough to kiss Cas. Sam sat on the bench for what felt like hours, silently willing his brother to do it already. The park was getting cold and he had some food waiting for him in the fridge. Dean was _obviously_ falling for Cas, and Sam didn’t mind one bit. Cas was the kind of person who would be perfect for Dean, and Sam liked having Cas around. Not to mention, Cas had just earned him the best grade in the whole class on the assignment, which of course made Jess incredibly impressed. Sam was more than willing to soak up the praise. 

         Sam looked over his shoulder for what must have been the fortieth time. _Finally._ The kiss Sam witnessed was probably the most innocent thing he had ever seen his brother do. That wasn’t what had Sam reeling. What had Sam so utterly perplexed was the _look_ his brother gave Castiel afterward. He had _never_ seen his brother look at someone like that. He could only liken it to when Sam had been called up to receive the Outstanding Academic Achievement award for the third year in a row. Even so, it wasn’t really quite the same. There was something different about the curve of his lips and the softness in his eyes that Sam was trying too hard to place. He thought about it for several minutes, giving them some privacy. 

 _Oh my God. Mother of God._ Sam whirled around, the two were now talking easily again, but Sam was anything but calm. Sam wanted to sound an alarm, or alert the press, call the pope maybe, because he knew what was happening. Even if Dean hadn’t realized it yet. Sam knew and he was shocked. It made something in Sam melt. 

_Dean was in love._


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow falls quietly, settling on you until you were covered, feet of it blanketing the world in a matter of hours. Dean figured that was how falling in love worked. You weren’t and then you were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT. Seriously it's amazing and I love you all and your comments make me cry k byeeee hope you enjoy

         Sam was eerily quiet on the way home, something that didn’t escape Dean’s notice. After showing up a couple minutes after _the best three seconds of his life,_ Dean had been giddy, but Sam had practically had the soul sucked from him. 

         “Sam, you’re awfully quiet today. Something up?” Dean asked, Cas nodding along with him, having noticed the silence as well. 

         “Me? No, why would something be up with me? I’m good. I’m so good. The goodest.” Dean turned a confused glance to Cas, who only flashed his eyes in an overwhelming wave of uncertainty. Dean didn’t ask anymore questions on the way home, letting ACDC fill the car. Dean noticed that Cas liked to sing along to the radio, so he made it louder, singing along with him. The whole thing was ridiculous, but Dean was almost certain he’d never had more fun. 

         When they pulled into the driveway, Dean gestured that Cas was good to go on inside. Sam moved his hand to the handle, but Dean locked the doors. 

         “Sam, for the love of Jesus Christ what is the matter with you?” Concern filled his voice as he attempted to make eye contact with Sam. Sam looked pointedly out the window, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. 

         “Dean…do you think you’ve ever loved anyone?” 

         “Where is this _coming from,_ Sam?” Incredulity crept into Dean’s voice. Sam was asking if Dean loved him? Dean would kill for Sam. Didn’t that speak for itself?

         “Sammy, I would kill for you. I would die for you. If that’s what this is about—”

         “Shut _up_ , Dean. You misunderstand me. And the whole concept of love, but let’s not dwell on that. I know you care about me. Enough to raise me from the ground up—literally. But I'm not asking that.” Sam was really hoping that Dean caught on this time around, because Sam was starting to feel awkward while trying to explain himself. 

         “Dad? I hate the bastard. Sam, if you have something to say than say it.” Dean answered, hoping to scare Sam away form talking about it any further. Dean wasn’t the best at math, or science, or language arts for that matter, but he was no idiot. He knew what Sam was getting at, but some things were too much for him. If he admitted to this, Dean knew there would be no saving him, and to be honest, Dean was feeling very comfortable with the concept that ignorance truly was bliss. 

         “Dean, I mean that you…I mean I _think_ you—” Sam couldn’t really finish the sentence. Sam knew that Dean loved him. It didn’t matter that he’d never said it. Sam reckoned that those three words would terrify Dean more than any others. 

         “All you need to know, is that there are things, there are _people_ that I would like to experience differently…maybe even for the first time.” Dean finished. Sam nodded solemnly, waiting for the click of the lock sliding out of place before heading back to the house. Dean ruffled his hair as he passed. 

         Sam stopped short of the door taking a left out toward the sad, little yard. He might as well do his reading out here while the weather was still okay. He watched as Dean made his way inside, secretly hoping that one day his brother would love someone enough to say it. He hoped that Dean would find someone who inspired him to live without all the chains and shackles he currently did. Let it be known, that Sam hoped it was Cas. 

         Dean swung open the screen door that needed a bit of maintenance. The conversation with Sam had left him with something vaguely sad tromping around in his head. Dean looked up to greet Cas, but choked on the words. Cas was leaning over something on the stove, having just thrown some seasoning or another in it. 

         “Oh! I thought I would start something since you’ve cooked all the food this week. Is Sam doing alright?” Cas’ smile was genuine and bright, and it brutally tore through all of the ropes that had been holding the torrent of emotions in place. 

         Dean pressed his knuckles to his teeth. _Real men don’t cry. Real men don’t cry. Real men don’t cry._

         “Dean? Did something happen? Are you okay?” Cas took a step forward, not sure if he should intrude any further. 

         The sting of tears didn’t hurt nearly as much as the frustration that Dean was facing while trying to prevent them from dripping down his cheeks. He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes slowly. Trapping the tears in place for a moment. Dean moved toward Cas, wrapping his arms around him. He needed the comfort that Cas brought on. He needed someone to tell him it was okay. Dean needed someone to tell him that he wasn’t worthless after all. 

         Cas whispered Dean’s name between hushed breaths, smoothing Dean’s hair and gripping him tightly. Cas didn’t know what had brought this on, but there was already a murderous little beast inside of him gearing up to kill whatever did it. Cas led Dean to the couch where he sat them both down, not letting go for a second. 

         “What did I do, Cas. Tell me, what did I do?” Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s cropped hair, trying to chase the worries from his mind. 

“What do you mean?” Cas said softly, leaning his head down to rest on Dean’s head. If he could just cover Dean with his body, nothing could hurt him. 

         “To deserve you. You just walked into my life like…like it was nothing. But you changed it. And I never want you to leave. Cas, I need you.” Dean said, words still thick with sorrow. 

         “I’m not going anywhere, Dean. Not now, not ever.” Cas said it, even though he knew that it was nearly impossible. Cas leaned forward to press a kiss to Dean’s temple, it was soft and fleeting, but he still felt the shudder it sent through Dean. 

         “Cas, you’re a goddamn angel.” Dean shifted in Cas’ arms, sitting so that their knees pressed together. Cas was reluctant to stop touching Dean, keeping one hand firmly planted on Dean’s knee. 

         “And you, Dean, are the living embodiment of grace. I think you’re perfect, in each and every way.” Cas meant the words. After all, he’d thought Dean was perfect the moment he’d looked him in the eyes and told him that he thought he was amazing. Dean sucked in a breath that might have sounded like Cas’ name if he read into it enough. Next thing he knew, Dean’s lips were on his, the kiss was gentle, as if Dean was afraid he’d vanish if he pushed too hard. 

         Dean leaned into Cas as he kissed him, relishing the feeling of their worlds colliding. He moved his thumb to press gently into Cas’ bottom lip. In every other situation, Dean rushed past this part—the sweet kisses and caring touches. Cas was different, Dean wanted to go slow, spend his time getting to know Cas’ body and mind. Cas’ hands were wrapped around him, moving slowly. Cas was a clumsy kisser, and it made Dean smile. He let a little laugh escape his mouth, and Cas smiled back at him. And the smile was so goddamn _cute_ that Dean had to kiss it. It was practically a moral obligation at this point. 

         “You’re sweet on me, aren’t you Dean?” The question made Dean laugh, a beautiful sound that bounced off the walls and echoed in the space between them. Cas spoke like he was perpetually stuck in 1950’s America, and it made Dean absolutely dizzy. 

         “You could say that.” He replied, moving his hand to brush against Cas’ striking cheekbones. “I mean, you’re stunning, that’s common knowledge. But you want to know what really gets me, Cas? It’s how you look at the world, even with how shitty it’s been to you, you look at it with your wonderful blue eyes and see something _good_. And I—I think that’s mindblowing.” 

         “Funny you say that, Dean, because all I’ve been looking at these past few days is you.” Dean was blushing. From head to freakin’ toe. Cas had sweet talked him stupid and Dean couldn’t help but to feel the slightest bit undignified. 

         “In all seriousness, Dean. What…is this?” Dean had been thinking the same thing, glad that Cas had voiced it first. 

         “Castiel Novak, I’ll take this any way you’ll have me.” 

         “Dean, you…I want all of you, and I want this. God knows I do, but…I’m not experienced. I could fuck this up badly, and I can’t do that to you, I—”

         “Cas, I could live a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve you. Not even for one day of my shitty life. Don’t you _ever_ worry about things like that. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

         “Together.” 

~

         Snow falls quietly, settling on you until you were covered, feet of it blanketing the world in a matter of hours. Dean figured that was how falling in love worked. You weren’t and then you were. 

         Flowers bloom in the daytime, emerging quickly, and blooming beautifully, Dean figured that was how falling in love worked. You weren’t and then you were. 

         Avalanches destroyed mountains in minutes, burying you until you couldn’t breathe, until you were consumed by the immense power of it, committing your soul to the confines of the snow long before your heart gave out. That’s how Dean knew love worked, for he was in it. And with every breath he inhaled, he exhaled it with the glorious heavy-light sensation of the feeling. Wanting so badly to share the knowledge with the world, and with himself, but Dean was buried within the sheer power of it all. It had piled on top of him. He was well aware of the feeling, but unable to share it, so Dean was in love. 

         They had eaten the dinner that Cas cooked, and Cas was definitely a better cook than he was. it didn’t matter much to Dean, it actually made him insanely happy. Sam had come in, still quietly trying to tell Dean something. Sam and Cas talked for awhile before Sam left to go rollerskating with Jess, which of course Cas and Dean had made little comments about, teaming up like a married couple.

        The night was spent talking about everything that they had missed about each other. Like that Cas’ dad was named Zachariah and owned some giant corporation in New York. Cas hadn’t seen him in nearly eight months. Dean spoke of his favorite memories of his mother and his favorite memories of Sam, smiling when Cas practically begged for more of them. 

         The first thing that had come to Dean’s mind was _fuck_. Then, Cas pulled out his phone and called Naomi, explaining how Dean’s car was acting funny and they had a spare bedroom he could stay in. 

        “Cas, you evil genius. I am beyond thrilled you’ll be staying here, but in all seriousness where will you be sleeping?” Dean asked, carefully ignoring the raunchy thoughts poking at him.

        “I can take the couch. That’s easy enough.” Cas said, but it didn’t sit quite right with Dean. 

        “No, you take the bed. I insist, no and’s if’s or but’s” Dean mandated. Cas laughed at the little show Dean had made of crossing his arms and sitting into his hip as he said it. 

        By the time one in the morning rolled around, they both were still talking. Cas had mentioned going to sleep half an hour ago, but they’d fallen into more conversation. 

        It was impossible to say who had fallen asleep first, but one thing was for absolute certainty, neither of them had a problem with it.

        And so they held each other as they slept, and Dean thought this might be what love felt like. 

 

 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dicks like that didn’t disappear after high school, they just got better at making you believe they loved you. And Cas was not an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Sexual Assault is described. Stay safe my dears. 
> 
> Anyway here we are again, I'm sorry it's kind of late, but school has a funny way of giving me 932934 things to do, but I love this story and I'm sorry for the angst...but it'll get better :)

         Dean woke up with his arm around someone’s chest. _What the fuck…_ He made a sleepy noise as he rose up on his elbow to see the face of his latest one night stand. Except it was Cas’ face. And he didn’t remember fucking Cas. That’s something he would definitely remember. But that didn’t explain the mysterious position that he had woken up in. _Unless…No way. There is no way in hell I_ slept with _Cas._ Not even in the sexy way, in the innocent and innocuous way, he held Cas through the night. Cas made a stirring sound as he began to wake, and Dean slowly tried to remove his arm from where it curved over the flat plane of Cas’ stomach. 

         “Dean..?” The groggy sound escaped Cas, and Dean nearly jumped five feet into the air. He had two choices. Pretend like they hadn’t just woken up next to each other, or yield to the obscene feeling of _happiness_ that was purring in his chest. 

         “Morning, sunshine.” Dean said with a smile, squeezing Cas’ side before moving to sit up. Cas looked up at him. _How can someone look so beautiful in the morning?_ Dean wondered as he ran a hand through Cas’ hair, parting it slightly. 

         “Dean, what time is it?” Cas said softly, disentangling their legs from each other. The question woke Dean up a bit, Dean was responsible for waking up Sam on Fridays because the middle school had a late start, and his gigantic brother needed some sleep. He crossed the room into the kitchen, glancing at the digital numbers on the microwave. _Well. Fuck._ It was already ten thirty. Sam should have been up hours ago…even when Sam slept in he never really slept in. Dean turned to walk into Sam’s room when a piece of neon green paper taped to the fridge caught his attention. 

 _Caught a ride with Mick to school. I hope you and Cas slept well._ Dean crushed up the note and threw it in the trash. Of course Sam had seen them and not woken them up. The little bastard had probably planned all of it. 

         “Cas, we are very, extraordinarily late.” Dean laughed, realizing that the absolute last thing he wanted to do was go to school. He wanted to stay here with Cas, doing whatever they felt like. And what he _really_ wanted to do was kiss Cas again and again until the day he died, but he didn’t let himself think about that too much. 

         “Dean, Naomi texted me, saying we better have a good reason to not be there.” Cas sounded worried, and it sent sparks of sadness arching over his gut. He walked behind Cas, carelessly wrapping his arms around Cas’ slim middle. Dean didn’t know how it had become so easy, the chaste kisses, and tender embraces, the little smiles, and the gut-busting laughter; Dean never wanted the two weeks to end. _Two weeks._ It wasn’t enough time. 

         “Tell her you’re sick, Cas. We’re not going to school today.” Dean decided, plain and simple. 

         “What? Lie to her? But she’s my—”

         “Cas, relax, I don’t have anything important to do today, and to be honest school sounds pretty terrible. I’d much rather spend the day with you.” Dean smiled lazily as he sat down at the table, waiting for Cas to decide what he wanted to do. 

         “Dean, just—just stop. Okay?” Cas snapped. Something in Dean went completely quiet, a part of his very being had died. “I know that this whole easy carefree relationship is _right up your alley_ , but come _on_. We both know you’ll…move on. Make the next person feel special, make them care about you, but in the end you always leave. It’s your type. You already know too much about me to actually _want_ to stay, so what am I? Do you have a thing for virgins? Is that it? And you’re here asking me to spend the day with you and wrapping your arms around me and probable using all the tricks in the book. So just _stop_.” Cas was breathing hard, but Dean had gone deathly silent. Dean had nowhere to go, except to school, and he would have to bring Cas the person he thought he might have been— _no_. He couldn’t escape. _Cas doesn’t want me_. And so it had come to pass, everything Dean had been afraid of. He had tasted something so good, and so right, but he had stared into the darkness, and it had stared at him right back. 

~

         Cas woke up with an arm fastened around him. _Dean_. Cas remembered falling asleep next to each other, but they had ended up tangled together at some point during the night. He felt the arm around him start to slither away, and he balked. _What am I_ doing? Cas thought to himself. Five days ago he hadn’t even kissed anyone, but here he was, falling in love with Dean Winchester, and his green eyes, and stupidly adorable personality, and he _cared_ about Cas. Which didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Dean had been in relationships better than anything Cas could ever give him. So unless Dean’s standards had taken a nosedive…he had to be in it for something else. 

         When Dean had asked him to stay home with him…dread had washed through him. This was it. Dean would probably fuck Cas and then leave him. Everyone he’d talked to about Dean said that it was his M.O. The only problem was…Cas knew he was developing real feelings for Dean, the kind that would hurt like a bitch after a one night stand. The kind that were dangerous. Dean was perfect in every sense of the word, but people weren’t supposed to be this perfect. Cas surely knew that no one that perfect would ever love him, so Dean must _not_ feel the same way he did. 

         It was the only logical explanation. And so he told Dean that he _knew_. He knew that Dean didn’t actually care. He _knew_ that Dean would love him and leave him. But most of all Cas knew that he had to cut this off before Dean could hurt him like all the others had, the ghosts from his past that still haunted him. The ignorant jerks in the hallway that called him terrible slurs but still tried to get him to suck their dicks after class…Cas thought that was over once high school came around, but Dean Winchester and his stupid perfect everything had proved him wrong. Dicks like that didn’t disappear after high school, they just got better at making you believe they loved you. And Cas was not an idiot. 

~

         “Cas…I’m sorry, but I don’t understand where all of this is coming from. I—I thought.” Dean couldn’t finish the words, something hurt so badly that he didn’t think he was breathing. His heart felt too heavy, crushing his lungs.

         “You think I’ve never met _boys like you_? Because I have. They were the reason I walked around the building to class. They were the reason I was afraid to eat anywhere but the library during lunch. Boys like you are the reason I’m afraid of a lot of things. But _you_ Dean Winchester are the reason I’m an idiot. A godforsaken idiot who thought that maybe someone could care about me. I know your type. And they _don’t care._ ” Cas was trying to make himself sound intimidating, but Dean saw all the _fear_ looking back at him. _What is he afraid of?_

         “You’re wrong. You _are_ incredibly stupid, but not for that fucking reason. That’s not who I am. Or who I was. If you really think I’m your personal Arthur Ketch than you’re wrong. I’m not going to throw shit at you during biology then come watch you play in your big game, then corner you behind the mother fucking bleachers and tell you to get me off. And if you thought I was that kind of person…then you don’t know me at all. Fuck you, Castiel Novak. For making me think that I…cared about someone. Enough to let them into my fucking life and not be afraid they’ll leave me as soon as they can. Yeah, so fuck you.” Dean turned on his heel and slammed the screen door as he walked out. He heard Cas call his name a few times, but he didn’t stop as he got into the impala and sped out of the driveway. Cas couldn’t leave, so he wasn’t all that concerned with his well-being at the moment. 

~

         Arthur Ketch had _terrorized_ him freshman year. Arthur had been a junior, and at first Dean had been kind of cocky that a junior felt threatened enough by him to try to bully him. Of course, Dean didn’t let it get to him, no matter what words they spat at him, they still didn’t hold a candle to John. Dean usually just told them to fuck right off, and when they stopped getting a reaction from him, they stopped trying at all. They left him alone the rest of freshman year. 

         Then Dean was a sophomore and had started getting more notice on the football team. _A real up-and-comer_ the coaches whispered at their meetings. He noticed Arthur Ketch and his friends in the stands at an away game, odd seeing as the game was an hour away. At first he thought _Oh, fantastic, they’re here to try and throw me off my game._ But it changed as they just…sat. Cheering when they made touchdowns and doing all the silly little chants that the student body officers led. 

         The game ended. Another win for Westchester. He remembered how Arthur Ketch had smiled when he asked about the game and how Dean liked football, he remembered how he had pushed Dean back toward the bleachers until there was nowhere to go. He remembered Arthur apologizing for the way he had treated him last year. But the part he remembered most was Arthur gripping Dean’s arm with one hand and hurrying to undo his pants with another. 

         “Come on Winchester, we all know you’re a homo. You’ve got that pretty slut Lisa on your arm, but we all know you’d screw Benny in a heartbeat.” Arthur said, trying to pull Dean’s hand into his boxers. Bile rose in Dean’s throat as he thought about it. Dean struggled against Arthur’s grip, eventually tearing free. Dean wasted no time in punching him square in the face, relishing in the crack of bone and gush of blood. Arthur had screamed as his nose broke, but Dean could care less. He tore out of the stadium like a bat out of hell, and he didn’t stop until he was in the safety of his car two towns over. 

         Dean had cried in the car, wondering what he had done.

~

         Dean sat in the car, trying not to cry as he wondered what he had done. Being compared to a guy like Arthur _did_ something to you. It definitely shattered any sort of good opinion you had of yourself, which wasn’t saying much because at least Dean already _knew_ he was the shit of the earth. 

         He had driven to the Old Stanley Bridge, content to sit there watching the water rush past him. He didn’t want to think about how Cas’ eyes were so much _bluer_ than the water, or how much he’d have liked to kiss Cas on this very bridge. _Not anymore._ Dean didn’t know if Cas not wanting him hurt more than the Arthur Ketch comparison…but both of them hurt like a bitch on steroids. 

         He watched as the water rushed by, the babbling sound of the river was a lullaby on his too-quiet mind. The willow trees that grew by the bank were beautiful, and the air was full of cotton in June if you timed it just right, but it was November. And all the leaves were gone, and the world was starting to die. Dean pulled his flannel tighter around him, flinching at the strong scent of _Cas_. It was looking over the water on Old Stanley Bridge that Dean finally understood what Sam meant. 

         Love wasn’t your willingness to give up your life. Yes, he would unequivocally die for Sam, but that wasn’t really the same thing as love. Dean figured he would give up his life for a lot of people, but love was your willingness to _dedicate_ your life to someone. To live for them. Dean knew that he loved Sam, but every single time he had told someone that he loved them, they left. As if it was the final item on a list to complete before you could leave Dean. Cassie, his first real girlfriend, had high-tailed it out three days after Dean had said it. His Dad had left after his mom left and now Cas was gone and people _just kept leaving_. However, Dean knew that Cas wasn’t gone—not really. If five days could change his life so completely, and so irreversibly, even Dean couldn’t ignore the feelings fluttering around in his chest, Dean would have called them butterflies, but the last time he checked, butterflies didn’t carry jackhammers, which was a far more accurate description of the feeling. Because, it was in that moment that Dean realized, 

         Cas was a love he would live for. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s touch was gilded, and now Cas was glittering gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my chuck I love you all. You're amazing. So good. Enjoy :)

         Dean sat outside for a long time, watching as Cas moved around the kitchen. He wondered what he was doing, moving from place to place with no regular time interval. When it had been about thirty minutes of Dean sitting in silence, he finally decided to get out of the impala. The door shut quietly behind him, he wasn’t sure if he wanted Cas to know he was there just yet. As he crept up the the door, he noticed a white piece of paper was flapping gently in the breeze. As Dean walked up to it, he recognized Cas’ perfect handwriting. 

_Dean—There are some things I think you should know. Please go inside._

         Dean was confused, but a part of him remained hopeful that Cas wouldn’t still hate him. Dean opened the door, looking around the kitchen, but there was no Cas in sight. Instead there was a single note taped to the fridge, next to Sam’s from earlier this morning. 

 _I love how you care about your brother._ Dean’s eyes flared at seeing the L word in writing. He untaped the note from the fridge and held it delicately in his hands, fearing it would vanish when he turned is back. He looked over to the potted plant near the entryway, and another piece of paper. 

_I love how green your eyes are._

         The rest of the process continued much like this: _I love how you walk sort of bowlegged. I love your car. I love your taste in music. I love how you think I’m smart. I love your spirit. I love that you let me fall asleep next to you. I love that you want to spend all day with me. I love the way you kiss me. I love the way you make me feel._

         After finding all of those, Dean began to be slightly concerned. He had practically covered the whole house, still no Cas. Dean had given up on trying not to let the silent happy-tears from rushing down his tears after the third note. Dean stumbled into the bedroom, the only room he hadn’t yet traversed. 

         Dean’s heart stopped, there Cas was. Standing right in the middle of the room, holding a single white square. Dean’s tears turned to sobs and he covered his mouth as Cas unfolded it slowly. And in big sharpie marker three words stood stark against the black. 

_I love you._

         Dean didn’t hesitate as he rushed toward Cas, craving a closeness in that moment. Nothing had felt real, until he saw the words on the paper, and he realized this was truly a fairytale, and Cas was his knight in plaid sweater. Cas didn’t hesitate to let Dean bury his face into his shoulder, letting Dean cry his happiness straight onto his collar. Dean realized he’d done more crying than Dean would have ever deemed appropriate in the last couple days, but he could not care less. Dean lifted his gaze to Cas, savoring every moment as Cas was the one that leaned in, pulling Dean’s lips apart with a timid tongue. Dean smiled around the kiss, every brush of Cas’ tongue sent such intense feelings of joy over him that he couldn’t help but pull Cas closer, not an inch of space between them. 

 _Castiel Novak_. The words had meant nothing to him, not a damned thing. Now they meant _everything_. He would live a thousand terrible days to spend on with Cas. To spend one with the man he—he…loved. Dean threw his head back laughing, and what a wondrous sound it was. Because in that moment, Dean realized that he _loved_ Cas. He loved him _so_ much. He would love Cas until the Sun had burned out millennia ago. He would love him in this life, and he would find him in the next so that he could love him for a little bit longer. Love was such a funny thing, so full of intensity and rife with fear and uncertainty, but there was _nothing_ worth more than the silly four letter word. 

         And maybe Dean couldn’t say it. Not yet. But it was just so obvious. Two plus two was four and Dean endlessly loved Castiel. 

         Dean and Castiel spent a long while alternating between kissing and holding each other. In the end, it was Castiel who pulled Dean down toward the bed. Cas let Dean lay on top of him as they kissed, wishing time would stop and they could live in the right now for the rest of time. Which didn’t make sense if you thought about it. Dean rolled off of Cas to lay next to him. 

         “Cas. You’re smart. You’re talented. You’re kind. You’re beautiful. Holy mother of God are you beautiful.” That was all Dean had to say. There wasn’t an addendum. Just facts. Cas ran a hand through Dean’s hair and Dean arched into the touch. 

         “Dean, I love you.” Cas’ gravelly voice headed straight to Dean’s dick, and Cas’ words delivered a shot of oxytocin straight to Dean’s head. 

         “Cas—”

         “I know, Dean.” And so Dean smiled and Cas pressed into Dean’s chest. _I love you too, Cas._

~

         Cas snuggled against Dean’s chest because he _did_ know. Just because Dean hadn’t said it didn’t mean a single damn thing to him. Dean had showed Cas he loved him in countless ways. Including coming back when he shouldn’t have. 

         Dean was his everything. In five days he had fallen deeper in love than he knew possible, and Cas thought that must have been the beauty of it. Dean’s touch was gilded, and now Cas felt like he was glittering gold. Life had a funny way of making you believe that you had experienced the best thing that would ever happen to you, only to throw a Dean Winchester at you, just so you knew that you hadn’t seen perfection… _not yet_. Cas knew that life had a funny way about that, and he loved being alive just a little bit more because of it. Dean made him want to _live_ , not survive, but _live_. 

         Cas liked to watch the sunrise as a child. He would wake up before Michael and Gabriel to go out on the roof and watch as the sun crested the horizon. Coloring the clouds with purples, pinks, and oranges. He used to think that sunrises were the most beautiful thing he would ever see, but that wasn’t true. He was touching the most beautiful thing in the world at this moment, and he had no intentions of letting go. Not now. Not ever. 

         Cas remembered a lady named Mildred had given him some food when he was hungry and Michael and Gabriel were both on a school trip. Mildred had asked for his name, he had lied and said Toby Cross. 

         “Toby,” she said, “When was the last time you ate?” Mildred asked. 

         “Yesterday morning, miss.” Toby-not-Toby said quietly. He watched as Mildred disappeared in to the supermarket, emerging with bags upon bags of food. 

         “Now, Toby, I want you to go home and eat as much as you’d like, okay? How much money do you have?” Mildred asked. Toby-not-Toby was mystified. 

         “I have ten dollars I was going to buy some groceries with, Miss. You can have it if you’d like.” Toby-not-Toby told her. Mildred clicked her tongue and shook her head. 

         “Dear, I’m going to give you some money, and I want you to take it home and keep it for whatever you need.” Mildred extended her hand, holding out several twenty dollar bills. She handed Toby-not-Toby the bags of groceries she’d bought for him, asking him if he needed a ride. He politely declined. He had thought that Mildred was the kindest person in the world at that moment. Cas never forgot how it was very possible she had saved him, seeing as Michael and Gabriel were gone for the rest of the week, and they usually bought the food. Cas realized that while Mildred had given him enough food and money for a couple weeks, Dean had given him a home and a pair of loving arms that would last him forever. Dean winchester was the kindest person in the world. 

~

         It was nearly noon when the two left the bedroom for good. Which sounded a lot more scandalous than it had actually turned out. Dean didn’t think that he had ever spent that much time in a bedroom with someone as gorgeous as Cas, and had it not result in both of them unclothed and panting. Dean was reluctant to stop touching Cas, almost always leaving one hand on his hip or the small of his back. If Cas thought it was annoying, he didn’t say anything. 

         Cas took a seat at the table and Dean moved his hand to grip Cas’ free one. Cas smiled and squeezed his hand. _I love you, Cas._ Dean thought again. Something about actually saying the words was so final that Dean couldn’t bring himself to do it. Cas and Dean went on a walk that day, not caring one bit when old ladies gave them pointed looks when they kissed under the streetlamp on ninth. Dean though his life may have been perfect, though ever since Cas had walked into his life…everything had seemed perfect. 

         Cas had spent some time in the community garden identifying various types of flowers. Dean had pointed out some violets, making a ridiculous comment about how Cas’ eyes were more beautiful than the violet’s and it had Cas nearly as red as the roses he stood next to. Though they hadn’t really had _the talk_ , Dean knew he wasn’t going to let this go. They would figure out what to do about being in different schools later. They would figure out life and take charge of what they’d been given. A new life, a better future, all of it could be so perfect. Dean knew Cas was perfect like he knew the sky was blue. 

         Walking amongst the wildflowers only took up so much time, and they got back into the impala, driving up to the big white “W” on the hillside. The Westchester kids called it Make Out Point, but Cas needn’t know that. Cas made a comment about it being unfair that there wasn’t an “H” on the mountain, but Dean countered that Saint Hester’s was two letters and that was just too much work. Dean had always intended to make out with Cas here. It was practically deserted while school was in session, so he was able to push Cas up against the hood of the impala and have their way with each other without anyone around. Cas looked gorgeous with swollen lips and messy hair. 

         They picked up a very smug Sam from the middle school at three, both of them given Sam pointed looks when he had the audacity to make a comment about the way he’d found them this morning. Sam wanted to grab a bite to eat before working on his science fair, and Dean’s starving stomach couldn’t agree more. When you’re mouth is occupied with kissing it’s kind of hard to, you know, _eat_. Cas voted In-n-Out which Dean supported whole heartedly. Because One: It was Cas. And Two: Burgers were always a hell yes. Sam didn’t even try to complain. 

         As they ate, Cas told them stories about Michael and Gabriel and his time at Saint Hester’s. Naomi seemed like a distant memory and the daily woes of school were abandoned for at least the weekend. Sam only cringed a little bit when Dean fed Cas a fry, laughing it off afterward. Dean was glad that Sam was supportive, it was a literal dream come true. Sam had liked Lisa well enough, but had never rooted for her in the way he was for Cas. It made Dean giddy. But, as things usually were when Dean was around Cas, everything was easy as breathing and as joyful as all your Christmases and birthdays all wrapped into one. But, you know what they say. 

         I _gnorance is bliss._

 

 

 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Easier, yes. But Dean didn’t think he would trade this brief tryst for anything. He would enjoy being in love as long as the universe would permit him to, no matter how fleeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all...MWAH.  
> But I wanted to say I'm so sorry in advance...and not for this chapter

         Dean didn’t check his phone until he was home. A single message flickered on the screen. 

         Lisa Braeden: I’m sorry. 

 _What the fuck…?_ Dean remembered how he had fully intended to call her and give her the “I don’t deserve you, and I’m not ready for this” talk, but he and Cas had become…distracted. And Lisa was using punctuation, another bad sign. He began typing his response when Cas appeared in the doorway, face ashen and drawn. 

         “Dean…” Dean’s head shot up to look at Cas. He surged to his feet and met Cas at the doorway. He didn’t look too good, pale and scared, all the things his beautiful Cas should never be. 

         “Cas, buddy, are you okay?” Dean asked, bracing both of his hands on Cas’ shoulders. Cas shook his head. 

         “Naomi…she just called me. She knows…about us. I don’t know how, or why or whatever, but she called to discuss something with me…” Cas choked, eyes brimming with tears, “The termination of my enrollment at Saint Hester’s.” Dean’s hands dropped to his sides, shock washing over him in chilling waves. 

         “No, no she can’t do that.” Dean said, firmly. 

         “It’s a private Catholic institution. They reserve the right to accept or reject _anyone,_ Dean.” Cas was leaning his head against the doorframe, his mask of calm not doing a very good job of hiding the sadness threatening to spill from his eyes. 

         “She doesn’t have any proof, Cas.” Dean said, frantically wondering where Naomi could have seen them together. They hadn’t gone anywhere near the school. If not that then…then… _Lisa._ The realization his Dean hard and fast as he bolted for his phone. He had never dialed Lisa’s number faster. 

         “Hi there, Dean.” Lisa’s too-sweet voice sounded. 

         “ _What did you do_?” Dean’s voice was quiet and lethal. 

         “I did what I had to do, Dean. You and I are meant to be.” Lisa spoke so evenly, so _sure_ of herself. 

         “What. Did. You. Do.” Dean ground out through his teeth. 

         “I saw you and what’s his face sprawled out all over each other up at the W. We were there to take pictures for photography, and, well, I took pictures. Naomi thought they were very good.” Lisa finished. Dean had never been this angry. Everything was shaking as he struggled to keep his wrath in check. 

         “You don’t even know what you’ve done, you _bitch_. If you ruin Cas’ future I will stop at _nothing_ to ruin yours, Lisa Braeden. That’s a promise.” Dean vowed. 

         “Oh, please, Dean. As soon as you calm down, you can come over and you’ll remember how much you love me.” Lisa’s voice was lower, huskier. She really believed he go over there and fuck her. As if he wasn’t in love with someone else. As if he wouldn’t imagine it was Cas the whole, damn, time. Dean knew that he hadn’t loved Lisa, at least not at all like he loved Cas. He had cared for Lisa, deeply, but Cas was on a whole ‘nother level. 

         “I have never loved you Lisa. I never will. Get over it instead of trying to ruin the good things in my life.” Dean spat. 

         “And you love Castiel, hmm?” She asked, voice expectant. “Just tell me you love him, and I’ll run straight to Naomi and apologize for photoshopping the pictures. I’ll tell her I thought it would be a funny prank.” _Thud. Thud-thud._ Dean’s heart stumbled. Lisa _knew_ he couldn’t say it. And Dean didn’t want it to be this way. He wouldn’t tell Cas that he loved him like this. But if Cas’ future really hung in the balance…there was almost nothing Dean wouldn’t do. _Almost_. 

         “I do, and you can take the express train to hell.” Dean spoke, hoping that it was enough.

         “You _what,_ Dean?” Lisa pushed, making Dean tense up. _Say it. Say it. Say it. Just look at him and say it._ Dean’s mind begged him. He stole a glance at Cas who was now leaning against the wall, tearful eyes staring at Dean. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. He felt like he could get lost in them, he could hide in them away from all his issues. Dean crossed the room in two strides, trapping the phone between his shoulder and his neck. He took Cas face in his hands, leaving the line dangerously silent. 

         He removed a hand to hold the phone to his ear. 

         “Hold on just one second, Lisa.” He set the phone down on the table, now moving one of his hands to Cas hips. He pressed Cas up against the wall, pouring all of his love into the gentle touches and firm press of his body up against Cas’. He leaned in and kissed Cas, fully and completely, moving his hands to touch Cas’ bare stomach under his shirt. He leaned his forehead against Cas’. Cas was currently busy trailing his hands down Dean’s back. It was maddening. He moved his lips to ghost over the shell of Cas ear as he pulled Cas close. 

         “I love you.” He whispered to him. Smiling like a fool as Cas sucked in a small gasp at the words before grabbing Dean’s collar and pulling him back to his lips. Cas was making small desperate sounds that were making it _extremely_ hard to not pop a boner at the most inopportune time to pop a boner in the history of inopportune times to pop a boner. 

         Dean slid his hand back to the table and picked up the phone, staring directly into Cas’ eyes as he told Lisa. 

         “Yeah, Lisa. I love him.” Lisa made an indignant noise. 

         “Dean. I have no interest in ruining some poor kid’s future. None. That is the only reason I’ll tell Naomi that the whole thing was bull, okay. But _when_ you realize he can’t do shit for you, I’ll be here.” The call dropped and Dean sighed against the table, relaxing for only one second before the crushing realization of what he had done hit him. 

 _Shit. I told Cas I love him._ Panic rose in his chest, tying a large not behind his throat. _But I do. I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him._ And so Dean had settled it for himself. 

         Cas looked up at him, a million questions written all over his face. 

         “Dean, it’s okay, I know you—” Cas started, but Dean couldn’t let the next words out of his mouth be _didn’t mean it_. Because, oh, Dean had meant it. 

         “I love you.” Dean chose those words to cut him off. Cas’ lips parted silently. 

         “Dean, you can’t mean that.” Cas whispered, but his body language gave away the hope he harbored. 

         “Castiel Novak, I love you more than life itself. I love you more than anybody has every loved anyone ever. I love you.” Since he’d already said it, Dean saw no point in going silent again. Telling Cas he loved him was the best feeling in the world, and he never wanted to stop. 

         “Dean…” Cas whispered, “We…can’t tell anyone.” Cas sounded deflated. 

         “Only for a little bit, right? Once you get into every college in the United States, it won’t matter anymore.” Dean wanted to will away all the sad little lines in Cas’ face. 

         “Dean, I can’t leave for college. Not if you won’t be there.” Cas said, and Dean’s heart sank to the bottom of the ocean. Dean knew that college wasn’t in his future. There was Sam, and all the money he’d ever earned had gone toward Sam getting the opportunity to go to college. He’d gotten a full ride to the University of Kansas if he would play football for them, but Dean couldn’t leave Sam, and college took so much time. It was just better if he didn’t go. 

         “Cas, you’re going to change the goddamn world, and I’ll get fucked if you don’t go to college.” Cas rolled his eyes. 

         “Maybe the world doesn’t need changing. Plus, I can go anywhere for my undergrad. I would just have to get into a good grad school program.” 

         “Cas, how can you stake your whole future on five days. I could be a serial rapist. I could die tomorrow. Life is finite, and I can’t let you base yours on mine.” Dean said in disbelief. 

         “I know you have a full ride to UK. I’ll get in, and I’ll apply to a big ticket university for grad school, people do it _all the time_.” 

         “No, Cas. Not people like you.” Dean said, gripping Cas’ hand hard in his own. 

         “So then what, Dean? What are you saying?” Cas moved his hands to cling desperately to the front of Dean’s shirt. 

         “I’m saying that I love you. I’m saying that you aren’t sacrificing you future on a whim for some guy like me. I’m saying—” Dean couldn’t finish, because he knew that he should leave Cas right here and now, before Cas left him, and Cas _would_ leave him because Dean wouldn’t let him stay. 

         “There’s still seven months left until we graduate, Dean. I don’t see why this needs to happen now.” Cas said softly, a plea. 

         “Because if you let me love you for seven months I won’t be able to let go, Cas. And you deserve better than Lawrence fucking Kansas and Dean fucking Winchester.” Dean said the words with as little emotion as possible, because it hurt almost too much to bear. 

         “Dean, I know something good when I see it. You can kick me onto the street, I’ll just sleep on you car. But I’m not leaving.” Cas said with iron resolve. 

         “Cas, grow up. I’m no better than the next guy. Go to Stanford, find some guy who’s just as smart as you. I’m still going to be here, ten, twenty, fifty years from now.”

         “I don’t want some guy from Stanford. Dean, I love _you_. Why don’t you understand that?” Cas begged. 

         “I love you, Cas. God knows I do, but I want what’s best for you.” 

         “ _You’re_ what’s best for me. I want _you_ to take care of me…please, Dean.” Finally, Cas had hit home. Dean bit his bottom lip, at last bringing his eyes to meet Cas’. Cas’ eyes were so genuine and sincere…he meant his words. 

         “Yeah, Cas, I’ll take care of you.” Dean whispered. 

         “I love you, Dean.” Cas said, but Dean didn’t reciprocate. Because even though Cas had meant what he said, Dean still knew the inevitable day where they would be separated would come, Cas traversing the path of glory, while Dean still walked in circles of failure. It would be easier if they hadn’t met at all, if Dean hadn’t fallen in love, if Cas hadn’t fallen in love with him right back. 

         Easier, yes. But Dean didn’t think he would trade this brief tryst for anything. He would enjoy being in love as long as the universe would permit him to, no matter how fleeting. 

         Dean wrapped Cas in an embrace, not wanting to let go, because seven months wasn’t enough time. 

         “Dean, it’ll be okay.”

         “Yeah, Cas.” Dean responded into the dark hair. 

         Cas pulled away, sucking in a gasp. 

         “Oh!” He had the side of his hand pressed up against his nose. “My nose is bleeding.” Dean rushed for a box of tissues. Wadding them up before pressing them to Cas’ nose. “This has been happening a lot lately.” Cas chuckled, finding the situation a little odd, Dean had to agree. 

         “Well, I guess this shirt’s probably done for?” He asked, turning around so Cas could inspect the back of it where Cas’ head had hung over it. When he turned back around, Cas’ sheepish face met him, as he nodded. 

         “I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas said, muffled by the tissues. Dean just laughed, glad for the tension between them to break. 

         “It’s all good, Cas. I’ve heard bloodstained is the new black.”

 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are we, Cas? Teenagers? Dean smiled as he realized that’s exactly what they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you are from Texas...please stay safe. It's dangerous out there. I love you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter that I wrote while listening to old Taylor Swift and post Physics-homework.

         Dean changed his shirt, but instead of throwing it away like he should have, he stashed it in the back of his closet, not sure if it was because of laziness or a different, much more nostalgic reason. He walked back out to greet a still bleeding Cas, who now had his head tipped back and eyes shut. 

         “Jesus Christ, Cas, if you bleed anymore we’ll have to shove tampons up your nose.” Dean said with a laugh. Cas shot him a glare that could have soured a glass of milk. Cas removed the tissues and angled his head back to it’s usual position. 

         “Well luckily for you, Dean, I think it’s about over with.” Dean smirked and went to kneel between Cas’ knees. He propped his chin on Cas’ knee. 

         “You’re beautiful.” Dean said.

         “Oh, stop it, you sap.” Cas laughed and bounced his knee, jarring Dean’s head. As Cas stood his hip bumped against the table, Cas made a noise of annoyance. Dean rose up on his feet to greet Cas. Their lips were inches apart and it would have been a crime for Dean not to kiss him. He pulled Cas into a kiss that was long and slow. 

         Dean sucked in a gasp as Cas untucked his shirt, unable to help the rush of blood to his nether region as Cas fingers grazed his lower abdomen. Cas laughed a dark chuckle against his lips. _Okay, that was hot as fuck_. Dean thought as he feverishly tried to conceal the erection that was starting to painfully press against the zipper of his jeans. Dean was taken aback as Cas moved him toward the bedroom door like a freakin’ pro. Dean was breathing heavily, _Oh God help me._ Cas nipped his teeth over Dean’s bottom lip. Dean couldn’t help it, the fire in his gut was undeniable, an itch that could only be relieved in one way. 

 _Cas_ ” Dean pleaded. Cas pulled back, fastening his fingers onto the front of Dean’s shirt. Dean was not even thinking of protesting as Cas pulled it up and over his head. Cas looked down at Dean’s bare torso like it was _Venus de Milo_ , like artwork. Cas’ chest was heaving as he lifted his own shirt off, and laid against Dean. 

 _Come on, you know better._ Dean did know better. _You don’t really want this._ Dean did really want this. He moved his hands to hold Cas’ back in place as their lips collided again. Dean would let Cas take the lead, it was his choice, all of it. Cas pulled back to run his fingers over Dean’s middle. Sure he didn’t exactly have male-model washboard abs, but years of football had paid off. Dean’s boner had graduated from half-hard to rock solid, and was now in dire need of release from the denim prison it was currently trapped in. Cas dropped his head to Dean’s collarbones, kissing them lightly. Dean dug his fingers into the soft skin of Cas’ back—not hard enough to bruise. 

         Dean’s body tensed and relaxed all at once as Cas began to suck a hickey right there. _What are we, Cas? Teenagers?_ Dean smiled as he realized that’s exactly what they were. Hickeys had lost their appeal for Dean after about the tenth grade, he found them slightly painful, but knowing that this was new for Cas and that Dean was who he had chosen to do it with…was something that had a _powerful_ effect on them. Dean let a little breathy noise escape as Cas tongue flicked over it. Cas was nervous, he could tell, and Cas’ beautiful shoulders didn’t look so beautiful when weighed down with tension. 

         Dean propped himself up on his elbows to kiss him firmly. 

         “You’re something, Cas. You’re something.” Dean murmured quietly. Cas laid back down, body pressing against Dean’s inner thighs. Then, something changed. _Cas was hard_. Dean swallowed as fireworks exploded somewhere near his dick region. The whole affair turned from sweet to outright lustful as he came to realize what it meant. 

         “ _Dean.”_ He barely heard his own name as Cas whispered it. Cas was breathing erratically and Dean laid his head back against the headrest. 

         “I can’t choose for you, my love.” Dean felt a twinge of guilt when he saw what the words _my love_ did to Cas. Cas dipped his head back to Dean’s mouth as he began to kiss his way down Dean’s throat…chest…abdomen…

         Cas finger’s fumbled with the button on his jeans, while Dean undid his. Cas ran his hands up and down Dean’s inner thighs, stalling when Dean’s erection sprang free from behind the zipper. 

         “Hey,” Dean said softly, running his hand up the length of Cas’ forearm, “Cas, we can take it slow. There’s no rush. I intend to have you all to myself for a very long time.” But when Cas looked up at him, there were no soft emotions. There was only a burning look of _hunger_. It almost had Dean sailing over the edge, riding on a wave of his own climax. Cas tugged down Dean’s boxers, looking at Dean for a moment before moving to kiss him, tongues colliding as Cas wrapped his free hand around Dean’s dick. Dean’s back arched as sounds that Dean would deny making slipped from his mouth. Cas kissed them all as they escaped, but Dean was a lost cause. His hips jerked up into Cas’ fist every time Cas drew his thumb around the sensitive tip. 

         “Say my name.” Cas said, a hushed sound amidst their panting. Dean would have made a joke to himself about that, had be been in the right mind. Instead, he just obliged. 

         “ _Cas._ ” Dean would call the reaction he got from Cas dizzying. Cas began moving his fist with each thrust of Dean’s hips, Dean’s head kicked back once as he bit down on his lip. All the sounds he’d held on to released at once in a form that might have sounded like Cas’ name. 

         There was a mess on Cas’ stomach, but that didn’t stop him from kissing Dean after he finished. Dean, not one to let his partner go without, pulled down Cas’ underwear no matter how difficult it was to _focus_ on anything. The first unholy thought that came to Dean’s mind was _Cas has a big dick_. Followed by an abundance of others. Dean stroked Cas, but what had Cas coming all over Dean was when Dean murmured his name intermixed with quiet _I love you’s_ and _you’re all mine’s_. 

         The afterglow was different than anything Dean had experienced before. Dean had used his shirt to clean off them both, and Cas wasted no time in pressing up against Dean’s body, nestling his face into Dean’s chest. Cas was breathing softly. Neither of them really knew what to say. Dean thought it had been awesome, perhaps the most satisfying climax he’d ever achieved, but he worried it had all moved too fast for Cas.

         “Dean?” 

         “Yeah, Cas.” 

         “Was that okay?” Cas said quietly, muffled by Dean’s chest. 

         “Was that _okay?_ Cas that was amazing.” Dean soothed, running fingers through the unkempt dark hair that was usually so pristine. Cas let out a sigh of relief, moving his face to peer up at Dean. “ _You_ were amazing. _That_ was amazing.” Dean added. 

         “I _love_ you.” The emphasis Cas put on the word _love_ had Dean snorting a little laugh _._

 _“_ I _love_ you, too.” Cas smiled, kissing Dean on the corner of his mouth. He gave a little shrug as to say _close enough_. 

         They rolled out of bed about fifteen minutes later, both deciding that their activities made them hungry. They walked into the kitchen, sexed up hair and all. 

         “Dean.” Sam said stately. 

         “Sam.” Dean replied, mocking the same tone. 

         “For the love of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ, please tell me what time your _extracurricular_ activities will take place, so I can plan to be gone _accordingly_.” Sam said. Dean blushed, turning to Cas, who was also a fiery shade of red. 

         “Good god, Samuel.” Was all Dean had to say before he moved to retrieve some ground beef from the fridge. Sam stuck around for burgers, but was apparently so disgusted that he fled to Ash’s house immediately after. Proclaiming nonsense that he would be lucky to keep the food down at all. 

         Cas had settled against Dean’s shoulder as they watched NatGeo. Cas, of course, of course was fascinated by the little documentary on carnivorous plants, but Dean was content to just stare down at Cas, loving watching Cas so enraptured. 

         The program was thanking _viewers like you_ for the five hundredth time when Cas groaned. He already had the side of his hand pressed to his nose, but this time Dean wasted no time it getting out actual tampons. He shoved one up each of Cas’ nostrils, making sure to take a picture on his phone, even when Cas protested so loudly he thought the neighbors might call the cops. 

         “Cas, you said this has been happening a lot?” Dean asked. Cas nodded. 

         “I think it’s because the air here is so dry.” Cas stated plainly. 

         “Has it happened before?” Dean responded. Dean didn’t know much about nosebleeds but he knew having two in one day wasn’t uncommon, especially within hours of each other. What he wondered about was how Cas’ nose seemed to be running like a faucet when the only bloody nose Dean had ever received had been a gift from his father. 

         “No, but if you ask me I think it’s climate change. Making everything hot and miserable, while sucking the moisture out of the air.” Cas was about five hundred times smarter than Dean, so Dean agreed. Cas went through two tampons in each nostril before the torrent of blood stopped. 

         “How often does that happen?” Dean commented once the tampons had been properly disposed of. 

         “Once or twice a week when it first started happening, now its about two or three.” Cas said, moving to grab one of the textbooks he’d brought from his backpack. 

         “What’s that?” Dean asked, referring to the book in Dean’s hands. 

         “A Student’s Guide to Medical Terminology.” Dean faked a yawn at the name. “Hey, it counts as a CTE credit, you do want me to graduate, don’t you?” 

         “You know I do. But why must you study it _now_?” Dean whined, but Dean preferred to call it _persuasive asking_. 

         “Because I have a test the first day I get back to Saint Hester’s, you weenis.” Cas teased. 

         “ _What_ did you just call me?” Dean asked in disbelief.

         “A weenis. It’s the weird flap of skin under your elbow.” Cas laughed as he explained, Dean couldn’t help but smile.

         “You are one strange son of a bitch, you know that, Cas?” Cas leaned in to press a quick kiss to Dean’s lips. 

         “So are you gonna help me study, or what?” Cas said, tossing the book to Dean. 

         The two studied for about an hour before Dean wanted to pound his head repeatedly against the cover until he died. Cas, the ever-caring boyfriend…well could Dean call him his boyfriend? They hadn’t really had the talk. Dean threw the thoughts away, making his already sore brain ache some more. Cas had covered all the terms in the chapter three times, and would definitely pass. Deep down, deep deep _deep_ down, Dean was glad he had done it. 

         That night, Dean was already sad about having to return Cas the the hotel. Staying two nights at Dean’s would seem suspicious, and that was something they couldn’t afford, not with Naomi already sniffing around because of what Lisa had told her. Which, by the way, Dean was still _insanely_ upset over. Dean told Cas that they should leave at ten-thirty so that they would get to the hotel with plenty of time to spare, and a much, much happier Naomi. But until then, they laid on the couch, lazily touching each other, just grateful for the company. 

         Dean drew shapes on Cas’ back. Hearts, stars, smiley faces, silly little messages, and, of course, one dick. When Cas realized what the last one was, he had shot up and made a face at Dean. It left them both crying with laughter on the floor. After that, Dean had proposed a game of strip poker, and neither one of them had a problem with playing. It ended with Dean stripped down to his boxers, Cas only having lost a shirt. 

         “Let’s go another round, Dean.” Cas said with a smirk. 

         “You beautiful bastard.” Dean said, meaning only two of the words. All it took was one half-assed pleading look from Cas, and Dean was hurrying to deal the cards again. They were halfway through the round when the alarm Dean set on his phone rang for them to leave. Cas made a show of looking dejected, and Dean whispered promises of the things they could do together tomorrow. Soon, Cas was blushing. 

         Dean couldn’t help but watch as Cas pulled his shirt back on, the muscles of his back rippling. What usually would have been a glorious sight had Dean feeling guilty as he noticed three small mottled bruises on Cas’ back. Actually, scratch that, Dean felt guilty that he was _pleased_ at leaving marks on Cas. 

         Dean kissed Cas for a long while in the parking lot of the hotel, arriving in the lobby at precisely ten fifty-five. However, before Castiel could disappear into the endless hallways, Dean leaned in and whispered, 

         “Sleep well, my love.”


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People were supposed to fall in love over months…years…decades. Not days. The funny thing was, Dean knew it was love. Not a cheap impersonation. Not like-like, as the middle school kids called it. It was love, uncensored and beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a different ~vibe~ to it, but some of the things in here needed to be said. Exposition galore.

         Cas woke up alone, bright and early, as he usually did. Cas stepped out of bed quietly to ensure that Garth got his precious beauty sleep, before making his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he wasted to time in turning on the hot water and stripping down. The mirror reflected the image of a happy Cas, something he hadn’t seen in awhile. The only troubling thing was the blooming bruise on his hip, a battle wound from his run-in with the Winchester’s kitchen table. Cas was a bit confused how the incident could have bruised, but Cas had tender skin, and it was reasonable enough. Cas stepped into the steamy paradise of the shower, sitting down under the spray, the water drizzling down his back, and he thought of Dean. Dean with his jade green eyes and gentle touches, his kind smile and loving arms, his ways and his words. Cas inhaled the warm air, releasing it only to find that it had come out thick, red, and liquid. _Shit_. Cas swore silently. However, seeing as he was in the shower, he thought he would just let it stop on its own. 

         The nosebleeds had started about a month ago when Kansas had gone from the torrential rain of summer to the arid dryness of the fall, an ode to the coming winter. Now, they typically started when the air became humid, or the pressure changed, or when he was hugging his boyfriend. _Boyfriend?_ Cas asked himself, not wasting too much thought on the semantics. No matter how lovely it would have been to call Dean his very own, he knew that that was a decision they would make together when they both had time to decide on their futures. Cas watched the rivulets of blood travel down his chest, scrawny from the scars of hunger. The little lines of red dissipated the more water they came into contact with until they were nothing but pink droplets racing to the drain. 

         Cas studied the first wave of pink travel down the drain, circling it once before diving into the uncertain depths below. Would it eventually be carried out to the ocean? Cas wondered as the water hammered at his back. Some tiny part of him hoped it would. He hoped that his blood would reach the ocean and he would become a part of something bigger than himself. Bigger than Lawrence Kansas. But he would never be too big for Dean, the sweet, caring soldier of Eden. No. For Dean he would raise Hell to earth. For Dean he would spend the night chatting. For Dean he would make hyperbole into reality, and the mundane into the magical. For it was Dean he loved so deeply. 

~

         To say that Dean woke up with one hell of a boner would have been an understatement. _You’ve heard of morning wood…now get ready for Petrified Morning Wood because this shit isn’t going_ anywhere _!_ Dean chuckled as the words crossed his mind. Partly because they were so crude, but partly because Dean thought they were hilarious as all fuck. Dean rolled over onto his back, staring up at the cracked, white, ceiling. The last time it had been painted, it had been Dean’s mom who’d done it. 

         Dean took care of the steroid-boner within fifteen minutes, not batting an eye as he tossed the used kleenex to join its fallen brethren in the trashcan. Sam, having slept over at Ash’s place wasn’t home yet. Dean never liked when Sam spent the night at his friends’ houses. He didn’t know if it was because he had never been afforded that luxury as a child, or if he simply enjoyed the little brat’s company. Dean guessed that it was probably both. 

         As Dean sat in the quiet house, he realized that he was also missing a certain Castiel Novak, and it had him even gloomier. Naomi had called when he got home, informing him that he couldn’t see Cas again until after five o’ clock because of some stupid group experience they were doing. Anything that separated Dean from the new found love of his life was an abomination in his book. 

         Dean always took his coffee black. He savored the bitter taste as it rolled off of his tongue and down into his throat. Something about the hardness of the flavor made Dean think that it suit him perfectly. Plus, John always told him that sugar and cream were for girls anyway. Dean didn’t think it was fair that the girls got all the good stuff, but he didn’t say anything. 

         Dean remembered the first time he had ever had a crush on a boy. It had been during the fifth grade, when they took P.E. for the first time. Dean was just on the cusp of hitting puberty, voice only starting to crack. He remembered how it had made his insides go gluey when Jose Parada had offered to meet up after school and practice football plays he’d learned from his brother with him. He remembered how it had made something _else_ go the exact opposite of gluey when Jose had taken off his shirt, sun glistening on his body. Yeah, Dean remembered all of it.

         But what Dean couldn’t remember was _when_ he’d fallen in love with Cas. He knew it was some time between Monday and Saturday, but that wasn’t enough time. People were supposed to fall in love over months…years…decades. Not days. The funny thing was, Dean _knew_ it was love. Not a cheap impersonation. Not like-like, as the middle school kids called it. It was love, uncensored and beautiful. The only thing that had Dean wondering was why it had come on so fast? Why had it been in such a hurry? 

~

         Cas cranked the handle of the faucet back to its resting place, stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist. Cas hummed a song he’d heard in Dean’s car as he brushed his teeth, moving his hips as he did so. 

         When Cas finished up in the bathroom, he rubbed his hair with the towel a few times before putting on a blue button up and a pair of black jeans. Breakfast was served at the hotel in five minutes, and Cas couldn’t wait. He made his way down the stairs, running into Naomi as he did so. 

         “Good Morning, Naomi.” He greeted her as she passed. 

         “Castiel, may I have a word?” She placed her fingers on his shoulder to stop him. Cas nodded in response. “I am truly sorry about the mix-up with the student Lisa Braden. We are ensuring she is disciplined accordingly, but you must understand that homosexual behavior is strictly against God’s will, and we needed to handle the claim seriously.” Naomi finished, speeding away up the stairs before Cas could respond. _Well, I guess I’ll see you in Hell then, Naomi_. 

         Cas served himself at the buffet, heaping eggs and potatoes onto his plate. Cas was the first one down, so he took a seat alone in the corner of the dining space. He wished that Dean were there to share the seat, to make his lonely day not so lonely, to make jokes, waggle his eyebrows, kiss him, tell Cas he loved him, the list went on and on. And Cas decided that life was better with Dean in it, and that all the things that had gone right for him to meet Dean…it was unbelievable. But what is a universe without balance. What was going to go wrong? 

~

         Dean watched TV. Dean made food. Dean watched TV. Dean went to the bathroom. It was _maddening_. Dean had spent the past four hours alternating between several mindless tasks, and he still had an hour to go until he was due to pick up Sam. Dean began cleaning out his bag until he found the abandoned questionnaire. He filled out the remaining three questions, he even made a journal entry. But without Cas something just wasn’t right. 

         Dean eventually decided to drive up to Toreador Gardens, to sit among the flowers he knew so well. But he knew that Cas loved gardening, and had once bragged to him about having been the one to plant the gorgeous day lilies near the entrance. Dean thought he would pay the lilies a visit, if not just to feel closer to Cas for a brief moment. 

         Dean pulled up to the gardens, phone in hand. If Cas was going to call him, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. As he approached the entrance he searched for the lilies, eventually finding them near the east entrance, almost hidden by azaleas. Everything Cas had said was true. They were beautiful. The white was complemented perfectly by the host of other colors around it, a patch of grace amidst so much chaos. A beacon of light in a sea of confusion. In a way, Cas embodied the very day lilies he’d planted in the spring. 

         Dean spent some time in the gardens before picking up Sam, which instantly jumpstarted his mood as Sam launched into story after story about his night at Ash’s—who was apparently some kind of freaky computer genius. Sam got all bashful, turning about fifty shades of red when Dean mentioned Jessica’s name, which got Sam started on talking about how Ash had dared him to call Jess and tell her he like-liked her, Dean smiled wide at the bit about that. It was so juvenile, yet so reminiscent of when things were easier…somehow simpler. But as Sam told the story about how Ash’s house was definitely haunted, Dean couldn’t help but think back to Cas and his day lilies. Cas and his day lilies. Cas and his day lilies. The image kept returning to his mind over and over. Dean thought he'd like to bring Cas to see the lilies when they weren’t wilting from the November chill. Dean thought he might like to bring Cas in the spring. Cas could see his day lilies in the spring. Dean had heard wonderful things about day lilies in the spring…

~

         Cas knew that five couldn’t come soon enough, but still it came so slowly. The ‘Nature Adventure’ had been horrid, and the only place he wanted to find rest was inside Dean Winchester’s warm embrace. It was four thirty and the bus was crowded and too-warm for November. Anna had fallen asleep on his shoulder and her head was lolling at an angle. Cas didn’t think it could be comfortable. With every jarring movement the bus made, Cas cringed as Anna’s skull banged back into his bony shoulder. It was a miracle she wasn’t awake and concussed by now. Arriving at the hotel was like arriving at an airport. You weren’t home yet, but you knew with unerring certainty that you would be, very soon. Cas held his chin high as he strode through the lobby and back, this time with his backpack that he had packed and repacked three times out of sheer boredom while the tour guide droned on about things Cas already knew. 

         When five o’ clock came, Dean was almost instantaneously in the lobby. 

         “Afternoon, Cas.” He’d said in a perfectly amicable voice, betraying the love that burned in his heart. Steady and slow, and entirely for Cas. 

         “Let’s go home, Dean.” Cas said as he walked out of the hotel. 

         “I’m going to take you home, baby. I’m going to take you home.” Dean murmured, looking around, making sure the words would remain private. 

         And so the two got in the Impala and drove back home, content to laze and enjoy each other’s company. It was almost symphonic, how the two harmonized, their souls resonating so deeply, that it would take something a great deal stronger than time, or space, or anger, to break them apart. Their love was engineered to be flawless. Humans, it is known, are not.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love you, Dean.” Cas spoke plainly, not wasting words, because all that mattered was that he loved Dean. So much more than he knew possible, so much that it was filling him up all over, making him feel heavy and light, aware and oblivious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I really loved writing this chapter. I hope you all love it too!

         “I don’t want to go back.” Cas said, defiantly standing outside the Impala. Their time together had gone by too quickly. 

         “Cas, under any other circumstances I would _not_ argue with you. But Naomi already has reason to suspect something is going on, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Dean pleaded. _God, Cas, please just get in the car._ Dean wished silently, because his resolve was quickly crumbling, and he didn’t know how long it would be until he told Cas to get inside, so he could kiss him slowly again, and again, and a—

         “ _Dean_ , are you even _listening?_ ” Cas retorted, crossing his arms and sitting down on the sidewalk.

         “Sorry, Cas, what was that?” He gave his full attention the the _stubborn as all fuck_ man sitting on the ground. 

         “I said if you want to take me back to the godforsaken place, you’ll have to pick me up and carry me.” Cas turned up his nose and looked back toward the house. Dean laughed loudly, because Cas knew he could carry him. The bastard was looking for a lift. Dean strutted over, rolling his sleeves to his elbows before stooping over to pick up Cas. 

 _Damn, he’s a koala._ Dean thought as Cas gripped his neck and fastened his legs around Dean’s hips. Dean walked around to the passenger side and moved a hand off of Cas’ back to reach the door handle. Dean stooped down, covering Cas’ head with his hand to ensure it wouldn’t bump the roof. 

         Cas held on. Dean moved his hands from holding Cas to his body. Cas held on. Dean wriggled around a little bit, trying to give Cas the message. Cas held on. 

         “Cas, babe, you’ve gotta let go.” Dean laughed into his hair. 

         “Says who?” Cas shot back, smiling against Dean’s neck. 

         “Says me. We have to get you back Cas, you know that.” Dean said softly, leaning his head to rest on Cas. 

         “Okay, can I sit in the back though?” Cas asked, and unbeknownst to Dean, he smirked while doing it. 

         “You are one dorky little guy, but I don’t see why not.” Dean said as he shut the passenger side door and took a step to the left. As he flung open the door and leaned in, Cas promptly relinquished Dean’s shoulders, now laying flat against the seat. Dean let his guard slip for an instant, thinking Cas would surely move his legs next, but instead Cas _pulled_. Launching Dean on top of him in half a second. 

         “You are one sneaky son of a bitch, Castiel Novak.” Dean whispered, realizing Cas had just played him like a fiddle. Cas sighed softly, a pleased expression settling on his face. 

         “But you love me, don’t you?” Cas teased. 

         “You know I do.” Dean said and leaned down to press a kiss onto Cas’ full lips. Cas was the one who deepened the kiss, hands roving Dean’s body. Cas pawed up the back of Dean’s shirt to dig his fingers into the soft skin there. According to Cas, there was just something _better_ about touching Dean’s skin. Dean drew in a little breath as Cas tightened his grip and dragged his fingers all the way down to the base of his spine. Both of them were half-hard, and showing no signs of stopping, but somewhere deep down, Cas knew he didn’t really want his first time with Dean to be a ten minute ordeal in the back seat of the Impala. 

         Instead, Cas flipped the ensemble, moving to lay on top of Dean, content to just be held by his beautiful, strong arms. 

         “God, I missed you.” Dean murmured, and Cas grazed his hands along Dean’s sides. 

         “I’m willing to bet I missed you more.” Cas stretched his neck to press a kiss to the hollow of Dean’s throat. 

         “Impossible, do you know where I went? While you were gone?” Dean asked, Cas shook his head against Dean’s chest. “I went to the gardens, and stared at the day lilies you planted. Just knowing that you were there, at some point…I don’t know. It just made me feel better.” Dean finished, inconclusively. 

         “Dean, that’s…the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in…a long time, possibly ever.” Cas whispered, trying to control the waver in his voice. 

         “You reminded me of the day lilies, too. How perfect they were amongst all the other flowers, how beautiful and elegant.” Cas squeezed Dean tighter, never wanting to let go. 

         “I love you, Dean.” Cas spoke plainly, not wasting words, because all that mattered was that he loved Dean. So much more than he knew possible, so much that it was filling him up all over, making him feel heavy and light, aware and oblivious. 

         “I love you, my Day Lilly.” 

         Suddenly getting back to Naomi on time didn’t seem so important anymore. 

~

         Cas woke up to the best bed ever, because it wasn’t a bed. It was Dean. _How did Dean get  in the hotel room?_ Cas thought and moved to sit up, only to realize that two heavy arms were draped over him, and the roof of a car loomed over him. 

         “Dean.” Cas hissed into the silent car. “ _Dean._ ” Cas said louder, startling the sleeping man beneath him.

         “I’m up, I’m up.” Dean moved his arms to rub at his eyes. The realization that they had, in fact, _never_ made it back to the hotel hit him in about two seconds. “ _Shit!_ Cas, has she called you? Tell her I was really sick, that I was so sick I couldn’t drive without puking or passing out.” Dean started to babble, but when Cas fished his phone out of his pocket he found no missed calls, texts, _nothing_. 

         Cas quickly dialed Naomi’s number, trying to take even breaths as it rung. 

         “Castiel?” Naomi’s voice sounded. 

         “Yes, Naomi, it’s Castiel.” Cas said, nervousness creeping in. 

         “Do you…need something?” She asked. _Am I missing something…?_ Cas thought. Naomi should be _furious_. 

         “I…wasn’t at the hotel last night?” Cas offered up, hoping she would figure it out. 

         “I’m very aware of that. A boy named Sam called me last night, he informed me that Dean was incredibly sick, and couldn’t drive. Is something wrong? Does he need medical attention?” Naomi asked, clearly bored.

         “No! No, he’s good, I just wanted to let you know we woke up okay.” Cas finished awkwardly. 

         “Goodbye, Castiel.” Naomi said, hanging up. Dean gave Cas’ thigh a squeeze, questions already swimming in his eyes. 

         “Sam.” Cas said, “Sam called Naomi last night, with the _exact_ excuse you gave me.” Cas marveled. 

         “That’s Sammy for you.” Dean laughed, scrubbing his face with one hand while his other curved around Cas’ side. 

~

         Sam walked outside around ten thirty. _Where are they?_ Sam was beginning to get worried, because they had walked out the door nearly two hours ago and hadn’t returned. The impala was parked in the driveway, so unless Dean had walked off mysteriously into the darkness, Sam was drawing blanks. He scanned the driveway again, this time noticing a shiny patch of black that stood out against the night as the door to the Impala, he also noticed the edge of a foot peeping out from it. 

         Sam approached it softly, _really_ hoping it wasn’t a dead body. He peered over the door, to find himself looking at something that was downright _cloying_. Cas was tucked in against Dean’s chest who had two arms draped over him. Sam considered waking them up, but he knew that being late might draw them more fire than if Sam called in an excuse for them. Sam found Naomi’s number on a piece of paper taped to the fridge. 

         “Hello?” The female voice sounded. 

         “Hello…Naomi. This is Sam, Dean’s brother?” Sam didn’t know if he was a good liar, he just hoped he was. 

         “Is everything okay, Sam? They have yet to show up here, and I was getting quite alarmed.” Naomi finished. 

         “Um, so, Dean’s really sick, I don’t think he should be driving…I don’t know if you want to come pick up Cas…?” Sam said, hoping against hope Naomi would fall for it. 

         “May I speak with Castiel?” Naomi asked. _Shit shit shit shit_. Sam thought.

         “Yeah, sure, he’s helping Dean right now, I mean with everything coming out of _both ends_ there’s kind of a lot of cleanup needed.” 

         “Actually, Sam, thank you for calling. We’ll see them tomorrow, tell Castiel that he can stay the night.” Sam fist-pumped the air. _Success!_ Now if only Dean would pull his head out of ass and marry Cas tomorrow. Sam knew it wasn’t practical…or necessary, but Sam wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths for anyone else. 

         Sam sat down at the kitchen table, pulling out the piece of lined paper he’d been working on all day. 

_You are as beautiful as diamonds_

_So shiny and pretty_

         Sam cringed as he read the lines. That was the best he could do, and he had tried for three classes in a row to come up with that much. Jess would never hold his hand if he gave her something like _that_. 

_You make me so happy, Jess_

_Before you, my life was a mess_

         Sam couldn’t tell if that was better or worse, all he knew is that he could use some guidance on this one, preferably from Cas, who won a couple poetry competitions when he was a sophomore. Sam figured Dean would do too, since Cas seemed to always bring up how _poetic_ Dean was whenever they got on the subject. It kind of made Sam want to vomit, but he’d put up with it because they were happy. 

         Sam stared at the paper again, and scribbled down some more lines. 

_I like you more than dogs_

_I hope you never have to wear clogs_

         Sam tore that one up, throwing it in the trash with plenty of enthusiasm. But if Dean could find someone, and be as happy as he was, Sam figured he definitely could too. 

~

         The three of them headed to breakfast at the Roadhouse, Ellen smirking quietly as she saw Cas and Dean holding hands. Sam couldn’t help be confused when Dean kept calling Cas his ‘Day Lilly’ whatever _that_ meant, but he figured he’d probably rather not know. Sam took out the folded piece of paper, the two lines he had managed to produce and _not_ totally hate. 

         “I need your help. And you guys owe me one.” Sam said without any explanation. Instantly, both of their respective attentions were focused on him. 

         “Sure, Sammy, whatcha need?” Dean spoke, Cas nodding along with him. 

         “I’m trying to write a poem to Jess, but I’m just so terrible at writing poetry. I need help.” Cas and Dean exchanged a sickeningly sweet look, and Sam looked away in order to not feel like a voyeur. Cas leaned over the table, sliding the paper towards him. 

         “Okay, Sam, what do you like most about her?” 

         “Everything.” Sam said, and Dean and Cas exchanged another _look_. 

         “Anything in particular?” Cas asked, pen in hand. 

         “She’s kind, and beautiful, and really smart, and she’s good at soccer even though she says she isn’t.” Sam listed. Dean ruffled Sam’s hair, and Cas thwacked him with the pen. Cas wrote down what Sam said, drawing circles and lines around the words. 

         Moments later a couple lines of poetry were set back in front of him, blank spaces left where Cas intended him to add in his own lines. 

_I appreciate your kindness, your soft and lilting voice_

_Your beauty is immeasurable, and that’s why you’re my choice_

_All my life I’ve never seen a girl as smart as cute or sweet,_

_I knew there was something about you the first time I felt our eyes meet_

_Every day I can’t wait to see you and your bright smile_

_So please do me a favor Jess, and be mine for awhile_

         Sam nearly fell over. Jess would love it, now all he had to do was fill in the last two lines and add in some syllables that Cas had designated. 

         “Cas! This is amazing! Thank you!” Sam sounded too much like a little kid on Christmas for his liking, but it didn’t matter because Jess would love it. 

         Dean leaned in to Cas side, seeing Sam that happy by a silly little poem only intensified the feelings he had for Cas. 

         “Maybe I’ll write you a poem, Cas. Would you like that?” Dean whispered while Sam read over the poem for the fifth time. 

         “Of course I would Dean, maybe I’ll have it tattooed across my back.” Cas joked. 

         “I love you, you bastard.” Dean smiled. 

         “I love you too, assbutt”


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drive home was peaceful, Sam going over his notes, and Cas’ nose in a book he’d bought at the museum gift shop on the way out. Decoding the Ancient Myans the title read, and Dean rolled his eyes. Cas was a big nerd. But Dean loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there everyone! I hope you all enjoy this story, because I love writing it. Thank you to everyone who's bookmarked, subscribed, kudos'd, commented, and read this story. You all mean the world to me

         After breakfast, the trio headed over to the Lawrence Museum of Anthropology so that Sam could visit the exhibit on the Homo Habilis for his Ancient World Civilizations class. The museum closed at one on Sundays, so Sam insisted on going right after they left the Roadhouse. Dean knew without a doubt that he would be bored, but he knew that Cas would make it bearable. 

         Dean covered the entry fee, in spite of Cas’ many protests, and they continued into the musty museum, chock-full of placards and fake cavemen. As soon as they were out of eye shot of the other visitors, Cas made a grab for Dean’s hand, wrapping his wrist around the inside of Dean’s to maximize points of contact. 

         Sam ran off rather quickly to his exhibit, but Cas was content to meander around the rooms and read whatever he felt like. It wasn’t until they were in the far north corner of the building, a display of the mid-western Native American tribes, that Cas pressed Dean against the wall, kissing him fiercely. 

         “Woah, Cas.” Dean spoke quietly, not sure what exactly he wanted, because, sure, some of him wanted to fuck Cas in between a taxidermy bison and a model Native American, but part of him knew that Lawrence was predominantly Catholic and Southern Baptist, and PDA between them wouldn’t go over well. 

         “Dean, it’s not fair.” Cas hissed and kissed him again, this time softer. Cas clutched the front of Dean’s shirt before burying his face in Dean’s shoulder. 

         “What’s not fair, baby?” Dean asked, though he knew the answer. Everyone knew the answer, but no one ever _did_ anything. It was the reason John had beat him to shit, and the reason he couldn’t hold Cas hand in the park, or kiss him next to a taxidermy bison. 

         “What is so _wrong_ about me loving you? Hm?” Cas gritted out, taking quick breaths. 

         “Nothing’s wrong about it, _nothing_.” Dean attempted to console Cas, but the grip on his shirt tightened. 

         “Oh, is that why God hates us, Dean? Because there’s _nothing wrong_? Is that why I would get kicked out of school if anyone knew that I loved you more than life itself? Is that why Chuck Shirley had to _move_ because Alistair and Azazel beat him up so badly that he could hardly move in eighth grade? Is that why you won’t kiss me in public?” Cas ranted, pushing closer to Dean with every question. The weight of Cas’ words knocked out Dean’s knees, and he slid down the wall to settle on the floor, Cas falling with him, now between his knees. 

         “I love you,” Dean rasped, “And if that’s why God hates me, then I’ll _gladly_ burn in Hell for eternity. I wouldn’t want to spend a second with that guy anyway.” Cas’ breathing hitched. 

         “How can you _say that_? How can you say that loving me is worth perishing in Hell? I don’t—I just don’t understand.” Cas looked up at Dean, eyes bearing testament to his true confusion. 

         “Because Cas, you’re worth it. You just are. If I’m going to live on this shit-hole of a planet, and I’m supposed to live without the one thing that makes me happy, then what’s the point? If Earth is going to be Hell anyway, then what’s the point?” Cas thought hard, trying his best to find some way to debunk the argument, but all of it was Dean’s _opinion_ and there was no way to change that. 

         “I want to kiss you whenever and wherever I want, and I _can’t,_ and sometimes, it makes me upset.” Cas finished, explaining what had brought on his tirade in the first place. 

         “I feel you on that one Cas,” Dean said, harkening back to his thoughts about fucking Cas while the stupid buffalo watched. “I’d kiss you in every damn place imaginable, just to show everyone that you’re mine. To show them how goddamn lucky I am.” Cas’ eyes flared, taking in Dean’s words. Cas pressed what was perhaps the most delicate kiss Dean had ever experienced to his lips. 

         Dean wasn’t proud of it, but being kissed like that, like Cas _adored_ him, well that _really_ turned him on. Dean stood up quickly going into Emergency-Conceal-Your-Boner-Mode. He dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans and tried like hell to keep that thing in it’s rightful place. _Shit fuck. Fucking shit fuck._ Dean thought as Cas moved to settle against his chest. If Cas moved a _fraction_ of an inch further to the right, there would be no hope for keeping Dean Jr. a secret. 

         Somewhere, deep down, Dean was hoping that some huge nerd would wander into the exhibit, just so Cas would have to move, and Dean wouldn’t have the fear of God in him. Not that Dean should be worried about Cas knowing he _had_ a boner. He wasn’t worried about that. Dean was incredibly concerned that if Cas possessed this knowledge that they would _actually_ end up scarring the poor plastic Native American for life. _Imagine Bobby in a bikini. Imagine Principal Crowley and Bobby in bikinis._ Dean was trying desperately hard to kill the boner, but it was a fucking erection from World War Z and it _would not_ die. 

         “Dean?” Cas asked, voice low and gravelly and— _Sweet baby Jesus help me._

         “Hm?” Dean hummed, but it sounded strangled and tight. Dean was barely keeping it together. _Deep breaths, Winchester. Take some deep fucking breaths._

         “When we graduate, and we’re in college, we’re going to get our own little place, and we can do _whatever we want_.” Cas had meant it in a more ‘fuck-the-system’ type of way, but to Dean it sounded a whole lot more like the ‘fuck me’ type of way, and it was not helping the situation. 

         “Cas, we should stand up. Walk around, go see the ancient Myans.” Dean tried to say the sentence evenly, but his voice was raspy and ragged, and Cas was _dangerously_ gorgeous, and his hair looked all sexed-up from Dean’s fingers running through it, and—

         “That sounds lovely, Dean.” Cas planted his hands on Dean’s knees, lifting his upper body off on Dean’s chest. As he did it, they made eye contact. Under any regular circumstance, Dean would have savored every second he could stare into the endless pools of blue, but under _this_ circumstance, every second he looked at Cas was another second he had to deal with this awful blue-balling. _Why couldn’t you have picked an ugly one?_ Dean’s unhelpful brain piped up. Cas held the eye contact as he stayed on his knees and moved his hands to cup Dean’s face. _Why are you so goddamn affectionate today?_ Dean wasn’t complaining, but why did it have to be here, where he could do absolutely _nothing_ about it? 

         Cas leaned forward. _Holy shit, Holy mother fucking shit_. Cas’ lips met Dean’s. If Dean thought he was captaining Mission Impossible before, he was on Mission Impossible, Expert Mode now. Cas dragged his teeth across Dean’s bottom lips as he pulled away, and, well, one man is only so strong. 

 _Fuck it._ The same words that had ushered Dean to kiss Cas in the first place resurfaced in his mind, but a thousand times louder than before, likely egged on by the rush of lust that was thundering in his blood. Dean clasped Cas’ shoulders, guiding his body gently to lay against the ground. Dean was on top of him in a moment, kissing him hard, and needy. His hands untucked Cas’ shirt and pulled it up over his head. 

         “Dean—” Cas spoke, but Dean cut him off with his mouth. 

         “Cas, do you have _any idea_ , what you do to me?” Dean asked as he busied his hands with Cas’ stomach. Dean pressed a kiss to Cas’ throat, making his hips buck. 

         “Someone could walk in…any second” The words were divided by a breathy gasp as Dean trailed his tongue over a nipple. 

         “That’s half of the thrill, don’t you think?” Dean asked, pure predatory cunning in his voice. Cas warbled another noise as Dean kissed his way down to the belt. Cas’ sides were heaving, and Dean delighted in it. He made quick work of the belt buckle, tugging down the zipper in one easy motion. It only took a moment to get Cas’ pants around his knees, exposing Cas’ dick, tilted suggestively toward his stomach. Dean gave a half assed look around, as he pulled Cas boxers down, Dean’s mind revisited the thoughts of _Cas has a big dick_ , as he did so. 

         Cas was biting down on his lip so hard that Dean thought it might draw blood. Noises still escaped however, little moans or gasps that dissipated before they had the chance to bounce off the walls around them. Dean bowed his head to take Cas into his mouth, moving his tongue up the shaft before swiveling around the broad head. Cas hips bucked and Dean’s eyes widened, any further and he was going to gag and that was something he would _not_ do. Dean moved his mouth up and down, Cas hands curled in his short hair, struggling for something to hold on to. 

         “Dean—I’m—gonna” Cas was struggling to speak, but Dean knew what he was going to say. The only problem was that there was nowhere for it to go except in Dean. He’d never swallowed anything before—seeing as Cas was the first guy he’d ever given a blow job to, but there wasn’t any time to figure something else out, so he swallowed down the warm salty fluid and tried not to think too much about it. 

         Dean moved his mouth away, watching as Cas muscles methodically relaxed in the wake of his orgasm. The issue being solely, that Dean was still hard, and he was not about to have Cas get him off when he was still so inexperienced, things could go wrong, and he didn’t want to ruin what had just been an _awesome_ experience. 

         Cas got dressed quickly. There wasn’t much to be done for his hair at this point, not that Dean really minded. The best they could do was a few run-throughs of the fingers, and so that’s all they did. Every exhibit they walked through paled in comparison to the view he’d seen minutes earlier, after all, Dean didn’t think anything would ever look hotter than Cas’ flushed face or the way his mouth relaxed and brow tightened as he came, or—

         “Dean!” Sam called from behind him. Dean whirled to see his little brother with his notebook under one arm and pen in hand. 

         “Ready to go, Sammy?” He asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod in response. 

         The drive home was peaceful, Sam going over his notes, and Cas’ nose in a book he’d bought at the museum gift shop on the way out. _Decoding the Ancient Myans_ the title read, and Dean rolled his eyes. Cas was a big nerd. But Dean loved him. 

         By the time they arrived home, all of them were tired, and Sam disappeared into his room for a nap almost immediately. Cas curled up next to Dean on the couch and they fell asleep holding each other. 

         By some stroke of luck, Cas woke up before Sam, giving them some time to get a late lunch together, seeing as they had all slept through it. 

         “What should we eat, Cas?” 

         “You look plenty appetizing to me.” Cas murmured under his breath. 

         “What was that, Cas?” Dean asked, walking closer. 

         “I said macaroni and cheese.” Cas amended. 

         “Yeah, I think we’ve got the stuff for that.” 

         And so they cooked, stealing kisses between steps in the recipe, not stopping when Sam came in and declared that he was going to lose his appetite if they didn’t stop. Evidently, it had no effect on his appetite seeing as Godzilla had _three bowls_ of it, before Cas eventually just passed him the pot and a spoon. It made all of them laugh, and Dean thought if he could bottle this moment and live in it, then he would. 

         The three of them decided to play monopoly to kill some time. A worse idea has never before been put into action. Dean, being the overly competitive person that he was, became obsessed with winning, and also with the rules, moved nearly to tears when he landed on Cas’ boardwalk hotel. Sam, the usually sweet kid, became a flat out _monster_ during the game, getting a hold of both he Electric _and_ Water utilities _and_ the railroads. Dean threatened to burn his homework. Cas, however, was something of a monopoly god. Scoring more monopolies than Dean had ever seen, putting houses and hotels on them while he was at it. Needless to say, Cas threatened not to speak to Dean for a month, and Dean threatened to dump his ass somewhere in Nebraska, all while Sam laughed like the little bastard that he was. In the end, Cas won, Sam came in second, and Dean lost, making the latter very angry, moping around until Cas kissed some sense back into him, grumbling about how he fell in love with a sore loser. 

         Charlie came over for dinner, bringing a lasagna that tasted like God’s tears, Cas said he could have cried it was so good, but Sam actually did. When Cas’ nose began bleeding mid-Moondor session, Charlie came to the rescue with a tampon, shoving it up Cas’ nose with much more precision than Dean had. Cas brooded after having lost the mini game of Shadow Orcs vs. Iron Elves, which was basically chess but with a Moondor Flair added. This time it was Dean who got to kiss Cas back to reality while mumbling about what a poor sport he’d fallen in love with. 

         When they arrived back at the hotel, both of them nearly collapsed in laughter over a drawing of Naomi they’d come up with in the car. Seeing her in real life after looking at the shitty drawing was almost too much for them to bear. It earned them a steely glare from her, but it was well worth it. The only thing Dean wished was different was that he could kiss Cas goodnight. Instead he settled for some more whispered words. 

         “Until tomorrow, Day Lily.”

         “I love you, Dean” 

         Dean left the hotel, driving and driving until he reached the familiar home. When he moved to park the Impala in it’s rightful spot, he was stunned to see another car there. He hopped out of his car to investigate when the realization hit him. It wasn’t a burglar or a serial killer, no it was something much, much worse. 

         John was home.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean fell asleep some time later, somewhere between his love for Cas’ calves and the way that Cas pronounced words without the mid-western drawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you guys! Please tell me if you'd like me to continue the story! I love it, but school's busy and yeah, I'd like to know if you would like me to continue it. As long as someone enjoys it, I'll keep writing. But I love everyone who's been here and yeah xoxoxo

         Dean’s mind went absolutely blank. His thoughts were white words on a white sheet of paper and didn’t make sense to him. The deep-set feeling of _fear_ crept in as he walked toward the doors. They were ten steps away, Dean began fidgeting with the pockets of his jeans. Nine steps away, Dean began to sweat in the cold November air. Eight steps away and he thought about Cas. Seven steps away, he wondered if John knew. Six steps away, he trembled at the thought. Five steps away, _I have to protect Cas_. Four steps away, _He’ll kill me_. Three Steps away, _He’ll kill Cas._ Two steps away, Cas meant everything to him. One step away, but to John, that meant _nothing_. 

         Dean gulped in the frigid air and opened the screen door. John looked up from his place at the table, eyes ringed with sorry drunkenness, hair mussed and face sagging. 

         “Where the hell’ve you been?” John said, accusation rife in his tone. 

         “I had to drop off a friend back at their house.” Dean said, the easiest way to explain that he’d just dropped off the exchange student he’d fallen deeply in love with. John nodded, standing up. 

         “Who’s Castiel Novak?” John asked. One million thoughts flooded Dean’s mind. John knew about Cas, but what exactly did he know? _How_ did he know? 

         “Why?” Dean asked, taking a step back. John rose to his feet, hand beginning to clench the neck of his beer bottle. 

         “ _Because I asked you,_ you dumb son of a bitch.” Dean flinched as John took a step forward. He’d always been a mean drunk, ever since Dean was young he remembered the rampages that had followed a night out at the bar. Until they turned into days upon days of John simply being off the grid—not that Dean minded, he didn’t in the least. 

         “Castiel is a friend of mine I made at school.” Dean’s words were quiet and hushed, trying to soothe John back into his seat. 

         “Are you lyin’ to me, boy?” John spat. 

         “No. I’m not lying.” Dean gulped, squeezing his hands into fists at his sides. John took a step forward, waving his fist around. 

         “Then can you tell me _why_ Sam asked if ‘Cas’ was going to come back later before he knew it was me? Why would you have him over that late?” 

         “Cas tutors me, and I’ve been real busy after school, so sometimes he has to come late.” Dean hoped he was a good liar, years of practice should have made perfect, but John always saw right through him. 

         “Good. I didn’t raise a _fag_. God knows they’ll all burn in hell.” Dean bit down on his tongue, at all the harmful words he wanted to spit at John. 

         “Y-yeah.” Was all that Dean got out. He felt like vomiting. He turned on his heel and made a beeline for his bedroom. He dug around in his pockets for his cellphone, breathing hard. He dialed the only person he wanted to talk to in this moment, the only person he knew would care. 

         “Cas? Cas is that you?” Dean breathed as soon as the ringing stopped.

         “Yes, Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas asked, voice taught. Dean took a moment to breathe into the receiver, trying to keep his tone quiet enough that John wouldn’t hear it. 

         “My—my Dad. He’s back in town, and Cas this is bad.” Dean was trying not to break his resolve, but it was difficult not to haul ass over to the hotel and get Cas, and drive somewhere far, far away, Sam in the back seat. 

         “Oh my god, _Dean_. Are you okay?” Cas rushed. 

         “Cas—I’m more concerned about…us. He’s not…the most open-minded.” Dean said, trying not to freak out, scream, cry, or perhaps all three. 

         “Dean, we’ll figure it out. He’ll only be here for a couple days, right? I just won’t come around.” Cas said, voice soothing and calm. 

         “Cas, you don’t understand. He’ll notice, and he’ll hurt you. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.” 

         “Dean, you’re under a lot of stress right now, but we’ll get through this. I’m not leaving you.” Cas’ voice had hints of despair in it, and it broke something in Dean. 

         “Cas this isn’t right. You deserve better, and you know it. The only reason you’re still around is because you feel bad for me, or you don’t think you can leave. I won’t be that person.” 

         “You’re being an incredible idiot, Dean. It’s nothing like that, and you know that. Dean I _love_ you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Or are they just words, and I’m just some guy?” Cas pleaded, gritting the words out through his teeth. 

         “Cas, you know how I feel, and you know how important that is that I even _told_ you. But this isn’t right. Not for you, and I can’t stand in the way of the best thing for you. I can’t.” Dean was adamant, he’d witnessed John’s cruelty first hand, and the last thing he would do was allow it to be unleashed on Cas. 

         “Dean, _please_ , Don’t do this…Dean, please. Remember how I didn’t know you a week ago? See what we are now?” Cas’ voice was reedy and thick all at once, a sure sign of tears to come. 

         “Cas, I can’t let you get hurt.” Dean stated. 

         “Dean, remember how you said you’d burn in Hell for me? I’ll take a punch, a bullet. God, I’d take a dozen of each. There’s nothing that your father can do to me that would be worth ending this. Absolutely nothing.” Cas was absolutely ragged now, explaining his feelings adequately enough for Dean. 

         “Cas…you don’t know what you’re getting into…” 

         “You mistake me, Dean. I don’t _care_. Because _you’re worth it_.” Cas said, and Dean remembered all the years that those words were the ones he would have killed to hear. John telling him he was worthless time after time had led him to believe it, but Cas was slowly pulling him out of the dark place that John had shoved him in all those years ago. 

         “What did I do to deserve you?” Dean spoke, calming down at long last. 

         “I love you, Dean.” Cas smiled the words, relief flooding every pore of his body. 

         “I love you, Castiel Novak.” Dean spoke the words barely audibly, unable to express how he felt for fear of John overhearing. 

         Dean snuggled under the sheets, layering the blankets until the weight was a welcome force on soothing his nerves. Dean counted sheep, but was unable to fall asleep. Instead he began counting the things he loved about Cas. 

_I love his blue eyes. I love his dorky sense of style. I love his flowers. I love how he looks after I kiss him. I love his dark hair. I love his voice, the way it sounds. I love his hands. I love—_

         Dean fell asleep some time later, somewhere between his love for Cas’ calves and the way that Cas pronounced words without the mid-western drawl. 

~

         The unwelcome blaring of the alarm had Dean up and ready in record time. Spending no time in packing lunch or getting his papers together, he swept up everything in his arms and bolted to the Impala, in order to minimize contact with John. Sam joined him moments later, hair still messy from leaving without brushing it. Luckily, Sam _always_ carried a brush with him, something about preparedness he said, but Dean knew it was because he liked to fondle his brown locks. 

         By the time Dean arrived back in the guidance center, he was humming with excitement. He would get to see Cas again, after what had been a hellish night. Dean watched as the Saint Hester’s kids filed out of the room, but Cas was nowhere to be found. 

         “Naomi?” Dean called, seeking the tall woman. 

         “Yes, Dean?” She said as she turned around. 

         “Where’s Castiel…he didn’t come out with the rest of the Saint Hester’s kids.” Dean tried to keep a tone of nonchalance, but he couldn’t really help it. 

         “Oh! I’m sorry, I should have called you. It seems Castiel has come down with a bit of a fever, nothing too serious, but we wanted to let him have a day to rest. In the meantime, your schedule will continue as usual.” Dean’s heart sank to his feet. _Cas isn’t coming_. 

         Dean dragged his feet through his classes, wishing that Cas was there. When lunch rolled around, Dean decided that _fuck school_ was an appropriate ideology at this point. Instead of going to class, he hustled to a little place called Soupernatural—a paranormal themed restaurant known for their soup. Dean thought the name was cheesy, but Cas laughed his ass off once Dean brought it up. Dean placed an order for some tomato basil and chicken noodle while he drove. He knew Cas would appreciate the surprise, and he practically skipped into the shop when he picked it up. 

         Upon arriving at the hotel, the bellboy gave him Cas’ room number, and Dean couldn’t help but smile as he rode the elevator up to Cas’ room. He knocked on the door and waited, bursting out in laughter as a very sleep foggy Cas answered the door. 

         “…Dean? What’re you…?” Dean stepped inside, closing the door behind him. 

         “I heard you were sick, I brought you some soup from that place that you like the name of?” Dean prompted. 

         “Oh! Soupernatural!” Cas laughed a little as he replied, making Dean’s insides go soft and warm. 

         They chatted quietly as they ate the soup. Turns out that Cas had gone out for a walk the night before, in the freezing cold. He woke up the next morning, unsurprisingly feeling a bit under the weather. It hadn’t taken much convincing for Naomi to let him stay at the hotel, even if it killed him that he wouldn’t see Dean that day. Cas finished the soup faster than Dean, moving to lay down once more. 

         “Cas?” Dean asked as a question crossed his mind. 

         “Yeah, Dean?” 

         “Can you sing?” Cas sat up in bed, a quizzical look on his face. 

         “What makes you ask that?” Cas said as the rubbed the palm of his hand over his left eye. 

         “I’m just curious to know if you’re good at it.” Dean said simply. 

         “I’ve never considered myself to be the next Frank Sinatra or anything, in fact, I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” Cas finished, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Can you?” he shot back. 

         “I can sing alright, if you ask Bobby. But I’m not sure what his opinion counts for.” 

         “Sing for me.” 

         “Sing—what? No!” Dean refused, breaking his gaze with Cas. 

         “Please, Dean. It’ll make your poor, sick, boyfriend feel better?” Cas begged, throwing in a set of puppy dog eyes that Dean—or anyone for that matter, couldn’t say no to. Dean racked his brain for a song to sing for his Cas. He didn’t want to sing anything to quick or jarring, because Cas had taken his cold medicine and his eyelids were already beginning to sag. 

         Dean chose to sing “Roxanne” in the end, starting out softly, but growing to a medium volume, not daring to move an inch as Cas laid down across his legs, breathing evenly. 

         “Sleep well, little angel” Dean murmured as he pressed a kiss to Cas’ temple. He could have sworn Cas’ halo glowed a little brighter.


	21. Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you just ask me out?” Dean’s eyes widened as he said it. He and Lisa had gone places, but never really dated. Cas nodded joyfully. 
> 
> “I did.” 
> 
> “I would love to go out on a date with you, Castiel Novak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI IM BACK. Okay so I missed a couple updates on my mini-hiatus, BUT that's because we went camping and there is no service lol. But it gave me a chance to find some good direction for this story and ultimately where I want it to go and end up :) enjoy this kind of filler ish chapter

         The only problem with having Cas asleep on his legs was that he couldn’t move or risk waking his Sleeping Beauty. Dean tried sliding out from under him, but Cas’ face scrunched up, and Dean didn’t dare move another inch. His legs were falling asleep, but knowing it was the dark haired man he loved made it slightly more bearable. _No fuck that._ Were Dean’s next thoughts. Dean laid back against the bed, grabbing a pillow from near Cas’ knees. With deft skill he slid his legs an inch to the left, moving the pillow in to where they’d been. He proceeded inch by inch until Cas’ head was safe and sound on the pillow, and the blood flow had returned to Dean’s legs. 

         Dean walked around for ten minutes just because he _could_. The hotel room was boring. Slightly warm and full of belongings, Dean wasted no time in rifling through Cas’. Yes, Dean _knew_ it was wrong, but he was bored, and Cas didn’t even have anything cool. Dean went on to the sad little balcony that overlooked the parking lot, watching the pigeons land on the concrete below. After what felt like forever he walked back inside and made some watery coffee, not daring to turn on the TV lest Cas wake up. 

         It had been two hours of the disconcerting silence before Cas woke up, and Dean was so happy he could have kissed him. So he did. 

         “I’m sick you know.” Cas grumped, obviously not a morning person. Or post-nap person for the matter at hand. 

         “Oh, yes, I’m quite aware, I just don’t care very much.” Dean’s voice was sweet and bright and it seemed to pull Cas out of the groggy haze he’d been in. Cas patted the bed next to him, and Dean went to sit down. Cas leaned his head into Dean’s chest, still wrapped in the duvet. Dean moved his hand to Cas’ forehead, the fever hadn’t broken yet. 

         “Need some water, Cas?” Dean whispered. Cas shook his head and huffed into his shirt. Dean rumbled a laugh and laid back against the bed, cradling Cas to his chest as he did so. Cas looked even smaller than usual with his hair slicked to his forehead and his limbs hanging loosely around Dean. Cas pressed a clumsy kiss somewhere near Dean’s sternum and Dean hushed him quietly as he lay there. 

         Dean took Cas’ temperature periodically, it was beginning to worry him. Each time, Cas was hotter than the last, even if only by a tenth of a degree. Plus, Cas had thrown up twice, the second time he threw up, he had only had water and some crackers in his stomach. Dean recognized the symptoms, seeing as Sam suffered them frequently when he was a kid. 

         “Cas, did you get your flu shot this year?” Dean quipped. 

         “No, I’m due to go in next weekend though.” Cas said, sounding exhausted and weak. 

         “We’ve got to get you to my car.” Dean said, slinging Cas arm around his shoulders. 

         “Dean, I can walk. I’m feeling sick, not dying.” Cas said, and Dean chuckled. 

         “Obviously you aren’t feeling sick enough to dull that sass.” Cas shot him a look before getting in the elevator. 

         Dr. Walker took them both back into the exam room, Dean lied saying that Castiel was Sam, so that the insurance policy they’d bought ages ago would cover it. They got some questionable looks from the staff, but Dean was no stranger to lying, even if half of the nurses still looked like they knew something was up. 

         “Tell me, Sam, what’s got you feeling so under the weather.” Cas looked demurely to Dean. It hurt Dean’s head a little to call Cas ‘Sam’ with a straight face and natural demeanor, but they managed to pull it off. 

         “He’s had a fever all day, thrown up twice, and slept a whole lot. I’m thinking it’s the flu.” Dean said quickly. The doctor’s office had always made him uneasy, no matter what everyone said about the wonders of medicine, it still creeped him out. The doctor asked Cas to do a variety of things, a stethoscope here, a light there. 

         In the end, it turned out Dean was right. Cas had a case of the flu, a moderate one, but nothing he couldn’t kick. He prescribed some Tamiflu, the two of them picking it up at the pharmacy before paying and leaving. 

         Cas fell asleep in the car, head lolling with every turn. Dean’s mind was at rest, the hum of the road keeping him calm. Things were easy on this stretch of road with Cas beside him, but it didn’t stay that way. 

         Because Cas didn’t get better. 

~

         Dean spent Tuesday and Wednesday at his side, dutifully getting him to swallow the medicine every twelve hours. Cas’ fever spiked about every three hours, and Dean was tempted to tell Naomi he needed to go to the hospital, but that would be impossible without revealing their insurance fraud, and Cas said that he was feeling okay. A little bit sick, but okay. 

         Dean knew it was bullshit, because Cas was spending less time with his eyes open, and more time with his sheets soaked through with either vomit, sweat, or both. 

         “Cas?” Dean asked when he was awake. 

         “Yeah, Dean?” Cas voice was so feeble and weak…it broke Dean’s heart. 

         “We should think about getting you back to the doctor. You’re getting worse, and that’s something to worry about.” Dean soothed as he ran his fingers through Cas sweat slick hair. Cas nodded, eyelids drooping. 

         Dean didn’t hesitate in calling Naomi. 

         “Dean? Where have you and Castiel been? I thought he would be back in _yesterday_. I came to check in, and you lot were gone, I all but called the cops. I should suspend you for this.” 

         “Cas is sick, Naomi. A lot sicker than he was on Monday, and I don’t know what to do.” Naomi’s voice hushed for a minute. 

         “Can you drive him over to the Lawrence Clinic? I’ll meet you there, tell them what’s going on, he’s covered under insurance already.” Naomi and Dean finished making plans before Dean gathered Cas up in his arms. Cas couldn’t walk and Dean swore the skinny kid had already lost weight. 

         Once at Lawrence Regional Clinic, Naomi whisked Cas away, Dean following them into one of the exam rooms. 

         “Castiel,” A bright female voice said, “It seems that you were prescribed some medication for the flu, and it hasn’t taken effect, and your flu-like symptoms have been worsening?” the doctor asked. 

         “Yes, that would be correct.” Cas mumbled back, pulling his sweater tighter around himself. Dean moved quickly to drape his jacket over Cas’ shoulders. 

         “Well, then. We’re going to take a blood sample, check that everything is normal, before deciding on any other course of action. Is there anything else I should know about?” She asked. Cas shook his head. Barely moving as they drew his blood, Cas shivered against the cool air. 

         Moments passed in hour long intervals where Dean thought he might die. _What if something is seriously wrong with him? You should have brought him in sooner. What if—_  

         The doctor returned, clipboard in hand. 

         “Alright, Castiel, it seems as though everything is normal! What I would recommend is that you finish your course of antibiotics. What is most likely happening is that you have a worse case of the flu than we thought, but what a lot of people don’t know is that when you take medication, it often gets worse before it gets better, so I wouldn’t be worried about that. However, if a week passes and you’re still feeling a bit sick, I would recommend coming back.” 

         Naomi drove Castiel back to the hotel, telling Dean to go home and get some rest. She didn't say anything about going back to school tomorrow, so Dean was counting that as a win. 

~

         It was Thursday and Dean woke up feeling unusually sad. Thanks to the fucking flu, he’d missed out on two days with Cas. Who did Influenza think it was? Dean drove Sam to school before hurrying back to the hotel. Cas was walking around, cup of brown coffee in hand. 

         “Good Morning, Dean!” Cas called over his shoulder as the door opened. 

         “Well, _someone_ is feeling better!” Dean smiled, crossing the room to wrap Cas in a hug. Cas nodded enthusiastically. 

         “It probably has to do with having a wonderful caretaker.” Cas smiled up at him. “I haven’t thrown up since yesterday evening, and my nose is beginning to clear up. I feel markedly improved.” 

         “You look markedly improved to. You finally took a shower.” Dean teased. 

         “Fuck you, Dean Winchester.” 

         “Shouldn’t you take me to dinner first?” Dean shot back. Cas returned an incredulous look. 

         “Would you like to?” Cas asked, blue eyes ridiculously hopeful. 

         “Like to what?” Dean replied, slightly concerned he got the wrong idea. 

         “Would you like to go get dinner with me, Dean?” 

         “Did you just ask me out?” Dean’s eyes widened as he said it. He and Lisa had gone places, but never really _dated_. Cas nodded joyfully. 

         “I did.” 

         “I would love to go out on a date with you, Castiel Novak.” Dean ducked down to kiss Cas, but Cas swerved to avoid him. Dean shot him a hurt look, but Cas mimed puking, and Dean was no longer complaining. 

         Later that night, Dean gave Cas a chance to get ready for their impromptu date. They decided on a little Mexican place called _Noches_ to eat. 

         “Hey, Cas?” Dean called through the door. “Did you ever end up writing that essay that you were supposed to do on this?” It had been so long that Dean nearly forgot about it entirely. 

         “Yes, I write about three pages a day on what we do together. Adding in some fake details about your athletic life, but more or less it’s accurate.” Cas said back, voice muffled. 

         “Did you add—” 

         “Nothing about us.” Cas cut him off. 

~

_Noches_ was beautiful, but Cas was all Dean could look at. Even though he was painfully skinny, the dress shirt fit him well, and the classic tie around his neck felt a little bit like coming home. 

         “Dean, you’re staring.” Cas hissed over his menu. Dean snapped out of it, looking directly into Cas’ eyes. 

         “I can’t help it that you’re beautiful.” Dean lazily smiled. 

         “ _Dean_. Someone could hear you.” 

         “Let ‘em talk, Cas.” And it looked like Dean had just told Cas he’d bought him a kitten for all the happiness in his eyes. 

         Dinner was lovely, but it was the love between the two of them, shining bright, profound in a sea of regularity, that made the night special. After all, in three short days Cas would return to Saint Hester’s, and Dean didn’t know how he could enjoy life as he did now, with Cas by his side. 

         Dean thought a lot about what it would mean when Cas did eventually go back. He was dreading the moment already, reluctant to spend that long away from Cas. Dean knew that it wouldn’t be the end for them, because it was too early to be the end. Spring would come again and once more the flowers would rule over Lawrence, they would endure the sweltering summers, and they would die in the fall. Dean would see Cas again, and they would live in eternal spring. 

         Something like unease roiled in the pit of Dean’s stomach, however. June was coming, quick and unrelenting. Dean would graduate, find a full time job, put Sammy through college. Cas would go off to college, making dreams into realities for so many people. The difference between himself and Cas was simple, senior year was the beginning of Cas’ story, but it was the end of Dean’s. 

         Dean had always loved Dandelions as a kid. He could blow on them and make a wish, not that they ever came true. He knew that because he wished for his mom on every single one, because if she came back then everything would be okay. His dad would be happy, and so would Sammy. But what use were Dandelions when you already had everything you wished for?

         Dandelions were lovely, but Day Lilies were lovelier. 


End file.
